The Tour of my Life

 

It was a wonderful day yesterday when I had the privilege of going with the year eight students on their History excursion. As the guide who loves the Lord took us on a Mountains tour and the history behind the convicts and the roads they endeavoured to build.

At one place in the bush, he showed how they made a box bridge using the sandstone and rocks that were their as a foundation to build on.

As we toured, we went to the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen. Being scared of heights that I always had been, I went towards the fence with my arms out in front to look down. While I gazed upon the tops of the trees many miles/kilometres down, I was so thrilled that I was on top of the land of which I knew I was firmly upon a rock. Looking to the right of me was a huge waterfall tumbling off the top of the mountain pouring down to the bottom of the trees below of which was obscured by the massive view of the top of the trees.

Taking it in breathlessly I looked over to the left, I viewed a massive rock face structure. Being slow to rejoin the year eight group and the guide, I reluctantly pulled my self away from the view I was richly enjoying.

We continued the tour to go to a cricket oval. I wondered what was the value in this after seeing such a glorious view of what God has created. Then we listened to the story written below:

“On Monday 2nd November 1931, the Six Hour Day public holiday, a special cricket match took place at Blackheath between teams representing the local community and the Pottery Cricket Club from Lithgow. Organised by the Blackheath Municipal Council, the event was used to christen the newly installed malthoid wicket, the first of its kind in the Western Districts. The Test players Wendell Bill and Don Bradman, then aged 24, were specially invited to represent Blackheath in the local team.

Few in the crowd could have known what a memorable match it turned out to be. ‘The Don’, in his own words, “had a day out” and what a day it was! In one three-over period, in which he faced 22 balls, Bradman hit 10 sixes, 9 fours, a two and 2 singles, running up what was probably the fastest century ever scored. He was finally caught on 256, an innings that ensured a Blackheath victory.”

As I listened to the amazing story of this cricketer, Don Bradman, I thought about the relaxation and the enjoyment he got playing this game. It is to my understanding, Don got out for a duck in the next game he played in Sydney.

Going back to the school, I thought our tour was over. To my surprise there was more to come. Because the school is placed in the mountains, the tour guide along with the teacher and students took us into the bush. With the teacher in front to cut some brush away to make the path easier, I noticed a man made wall on the left of me. When we stopped the tour guide explained we were standing in the location of the old girls school and the man made wall was the foundations of the old school that got burnt down about a century ago.

The day over we were left with our thoughts and the school kids their homework.

Thinking about the bridge, I pondered over the crossing of circumstances in our lives and there is always away to the other side. Looking down to the tops of the trees, I thought about how some things may seem afar off in our lives but it can be still in our vision. Looking at the waterfall I had a glimmer of a thought that Jesus is the water of life and we need to drink from it. Gazing at the rocks I knew that Jesus is my rock and the rock of all ages. Understanding the story of Don Bradman, he kept his eye on the ball to score just over a century until he took his eye off the ball in the next game. Seeing the foundation of the old school reminded me that Jesus is the foundation that we need to be firmly on even though the wood is burnt down in our lives, He will still stand firm.

Quote from http://www.flickr.com/photos/blue_mountains_library_-_local_studies/4680010673/

Night Chills

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Time progressed slowly when I was young, as some of us may recall. We would remember our going to bed and saying “good night” to our parents or guardian. I remember that my bed was tucked in so tightly with sheets and blankets I could hardly get into it. I know now beds were prepared this way in the era I had grown up in. Or, was there some other reason that I did not know about?

 

During the quiet of the night while the rest of my family were asleep, I would pull the top sheet and the blankets out from the bottom of the mattress. After being free from my tightly tucked bed, I would then go to the bottom of my bed head first, and see if I could turn around in a circle underneath the bed linen and blankets without going over the edge of the mattress. Every morning my sheets and blankets were on the floor. It was thought by my parents that I had nightmares.

Looking back it doesn’t seem long before I became a young man and left home. This was not easy. I had thought that I could change a lot of things in my life and I would be free; just like I was free from the tight bedding at home. It wasn’t long before I bought myself a digital clock and a quilt. My sleep became very restful because of my very own quiet clock, and a quilt.

One night, years later, I had an experience which I will never forget. It was a cold night and was in bed with my new wife.

(You know what’s coming don’t you. Well, you can just wait for the rest of the story!)

Thinking I was under the warm quilt I woke up very cold. Weary eyed, I looked over to the other side of the bed to find my honey rolled up in the quilt. I looked down at myself thinking that there maybe something over me, but shivering away there was nothing to be seen.

Not being able to move the quilt, “Are you quite warm, Hon?” I asked in a shivering voice.

 

“Yes.”

There was a silence for a while, when a question came. “Have you put the garbage out?”

 

“No! I am not going out in the cold. I am cold enough without the quilt over me.”

“Ok.”

At this point I had three choices. The first choice was to get angry and pull the quilt off her. The second was to wake her up, which I didn’t have heart to do, or third, was to speak with her in the morning. However, for the night, I laid there like a good husband.

Folding my arms and curling up trying to keep warm, I dozed in and out of sleep for the rest of the night. I woke up before her at day break.

(Now you are starting to get interested aren’t you?)

 

I got dressed into some warm clothes, and made myself a cup of coffee. While sitting drinking it in the kitchen my Hon woke up and came in.

My voice cracked. “Did you have a good sleep Hon?”

 

“Yes, I did. What about you?”

“No I didn’t; you had the quilt all night.”

 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I did; I asked if you were warm enough and you said ‘yes’, and then you asked if I put the garbage out.”

 

At this point my loving husband attitude had gone and she noticed it.

(I have your attention now!)

 

Well the “debate” went back and forth of the occurrences through the night as you may imagine. Then, she said something that changed the situation around.

“I honestly don’t remember talking to you, or asking you about the garbage.”

 

Realizing what had happened, I knew that it was time to reconcile with her. She was so upset I knew that my tender loving care had to come back.

It was a wonderful experience to forgive each other, and we still laugh at this experience we had that night.

 

I will always remember the joys we had when we were growing up and the well tucked in nights that we once enjoyed and we will always cherish the experiences of marriage as we grow to be more like Christ, forgiving one another.

(What happens with our quilt now? Not telling!)