Treasure in a Trailer Park

Sunday was lovely in so many ways,
busy, but lovely.
It started with church, (a good place to start any week) then lunch at home with hubby and Miss Sunshine while the other two kidlets played with friends. The weather started out a bit wintery and grey with moody skies. Then, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, so incy-wincy me decided to hit the beach to shoot for an up-coming photographic assignment! I had to shoot on film and haven't yet developed it in the darkroom, but just so you don't completely miss out I took a few shots on my phone too. Don't ya just love technology! (actually I'm extensively limiting my time on various technological outlets which is why I'm a bit quiet on the social media networks at the moment like FB, Twitter, Instagram & Blogs- but that's another story) Just making sure I'm putting the Big Guy first that's all, everything else is a bonus!


Anyway, Ta Da, here's a few simple phone pics..

So with camera in hand, the film all shot, sand in my toes and a soothing for my soul, I began to make my way home. I hadn't gone far when I found myself eyeing off cute old retro caravans at a local beach caravan/trailer park that's been operating there since I was a kid. I liked seeing how something so portable had become so permanent for some, complete with hanging baskets and little gardens and trinkets and things. I was reminded of how I loved spending time in my Grandparent's caravan park when I was little, and admit I've had gypsy dreams of living in one from time to time, traveling here, there and everywhere.


I wasn't far into my day-dreaming when I began to think about 
Her.
The lady I met on the train.
The home that I had taken her to was a caravan at another park just up the road, so I decided to take a visit.
I had been back once before, since I had first dropped her off but found she was still in Sydney with her sick daughter. It was during that visit I learned of her name from the lovely old lady at the kiosk who knew who I meant on the vague description I had given, but she hadn't told me what number she lived in, or which van was hers. So I almost gave up and went home this time around when I went to enquire once again at the kiosk to find that it was shut for the day (typical seaside town;-) 
I glanced around and it was all so quiet and rather deserted, but instead of going back to my car, I thought I could just take a little wander and 'who knows?' perhaps I'll find her, or someone who can lead me to her. And that is just what happened, with the help of a couple of friendly folk, it turns out that her van was directly behind one I was led to....(oh and the park is quite large just so you know!)


I knocked a few times, hesitant of what I might say, of what she might think and then finally, out she came and gave me the biggest hug! She was so pleased to see me and to be able to tell me that after months of testing and scans, the doctors have said that her daughter has 
NO CANCER!!!
I know right?! How amazing is HE - our Healer, our Restorer, 
Our God! 
Once again I was able to share His Love 
with her, 
for her,
for her daughter.


WOW.
I am in awe.


Him.
Me.
Her.


You.


I'm so grateful for the Sunday that has just been and so excited for the Sunday's to come, coz let's just say there may just be an extra person in my car coming along to Church to hear more of the Good Stuff!


I'll keep you posted!

The Station Master

It was a sound like no other,
a sound I would rather never hear again,
the lady on the train was distraught
and that sound came from the very depths of her soul.

She sat across from me, the train was crowded and I couldn't see her face, but amongst a sea of people I could hear the sobbing of this woman,
a mother.
From what I could understand it had been just a regular day, she was coming home from work on the train when her phone rang.
The cries soon followed.
The call ended, the crying didn't.
It was her daughter.
A daughter phoning her mother to tell her she had cancer in it's last stages.

Sporadically through the tears she managed some words to the man beside her trying to offer comfort,
"She's only 22."
"She left it too late to get it checked."
"My mother died when I was 9 and now my daughter has the same thing."
The train was silenced for all but her sobs, the wailing, the heart-break.
A mother in Perth,
her daughter in Sydney,
they needed no space between them at this point in time.
I wanted to do something, but what?
To offer comfort, but how?
I hadn't even seen her face yet, but I saw her heart and it was broken,
and her crying was fracturing mine in the process.

"What can I do God?" I asked. "Surely I am on this train for a reason? I'm certain you put me here Lord, so now what?"
I frantically searched my bag, purse, books for something, anything that might give her hope, strength, represent His Love, but nothing jumped out at me.
"Oh God, if I'm meant to do something you'd better hurry up, I'm almost at my stop! Perhaps she'll get off at the same time as me - then what? Come on God, what shall I do? Anything?"
And then my station was announced and within moments the train came to a halt. I stood as others made their way to the door, and so did the lady. Her grief-stricken face was now in sight. I reached thru the moving crowd and touched a re-affirming hand on her shoulder, she didn't turn but started to weep again as we made our way to the door. A lot of people got off the train and by then she was a fair distance away from me. My eyes stayed on her. I couldn't peel them away.
So the touch on the shoulder wasn't sufficient in my book, I mean images of the woman with the issue of blood reaching out and touching Jesus' hem flashed before my eyes...but "hold your horses" I told myself, who did I think I was?!! When I touched her shoulder, no power had left me like it did Jesus (as I'd hoped, go figure??!!:-) so I knew there was still something I had to give.

So I walked and watched with my mind abuzz,
'Should I just go to my car, pray she's ok and get on with it?'
'Should I follow her for a bit and make sure she's ok?'
"Oh God, there's something you want me to do, I'm sure of it!"

Right outside the train station is also a bus station. As I began to walk towards the carpark to find my car (taking the 'chickening out' option) I saw her get on a parked bus. The next thing, before my head knew what my body was doing, I found myself walking alongside that bus, then jumped on to find her standing at the front, fumbling through a timetable trying to figure out where she had to go.
I touched her shoulder once again, this time she turned as I said,
"Sweetheart,
I was on the train.
How about I get you home?"

She gripped hold of my arms, nodded and the tears flowed once more as I lead her off the bus and to my car.
She told me of her daughter, of her kind-hearted nature, her beautiful heart. She told me of losing her mother as a child and how she couldn't bear to lose her baby girl also. She told me of her life and her work and the challenges she had faced. In the short 10 minute drive to her home I had established that this woman was a fighter. She had faced life through some really tough times, yet she hadn't let it stop her. As we neared her place I reminded her of the tenacity within her that was already apparent to me, a stranger. Her crying stopped and she looked at me for a moment with a small portion of renewed energy....and a smile.
She mentioned, as we pulled down her street that she had been with her daughter a few weeks ago and when it was time to go there was this sense that she needed to stay. She said her daughter had felt it too, to the point she had made her mum miss her flight back to Perth. She ended up on the next flight but was now wishing she had stayed.
Just as she was about to get out of my car, I told her that the feeling she'd had, that urging, that whisper in her heart is what I believe to be the voice of the One True God, that He is with her and is in control. I encouraged her to listen to only that whisper because He will be her saving Grace and source of strength, and that I will be praying for her and her daughter.

She hugged me and thanked me and told me my children are the luckiest in the world to have me as their mum. And as I watched her walk away, I realised that no, I'm the lucky one.

I didn't get her name, she didn't get mine, it all happened so fast. But she had got to my heart and in doing so, HE had got to hers too.

Join with me in believing for miraculous healing and for God's hand in this situation, Eternity will thank you!

Oh and one last thought,
let me ask you,
are you standing at the right station?

God wants to use you,
All-aboard,
who knows where it might take you!

oh and just for good measure here's a pic of Anne Shirley - gotta love this lass! x

Sunday Girl - Part 2, 'Found'

April 2000 - The Reunion


Waiting at Perth Airport, my tummy is doing somersaults, my heart is twisting and contorting in all different directions.
Will she recognise me? Will I know it's her when I take one look at her?
Oh I feel sick, Thank God I have this pram to cling onto,
my knuckles are white, I'm shaking.
Oh this boy, this beautiful baby of mine, so new, so innocent.
She won't even know if he looks like me or not because she never knew me at that age.
She never knew me at all.
Oh what if she wants to cuddle him - not sure I'm ok with that, that's MY baby.
Come to think of it, I want her to cuddle me, hold me.


And there she is.


I don't know who sees who first but amongst the crowd we lock eyes.
The same eyes.
The tears.
The relief.
The embrace.


She holds me,
Better late than never.


A rush of emotions spill out in that moment and my world stands still. Actually I think hers does too, or maybe it really only just begins to move for the first time in 21 years.


We talk.
Her lips are bigger than mine. Her voice has a sing-song tone to it and I like it's rhythm. It's all just so different, yet the same,
so strange.


We can't peel our eyes away, stealing glances at any opportunity we can get.


Amazing! Somebody actually looks like me. I came from somewhere. Someone.


The questions,
the regret,
hangs in the air like a strange smell we cover over with nice things like perfume.
Oh her perfume! Had my newborn senses registered that scent at birth and placed it in the filing cabinet of my mind for such a time as now?


Perhaps it's all just fantasy, I'm caught up in the emotion,
Captivated.


Surely she must want me now that she's seen me?


Oh but my Mum, the one I've grown up with, I love her. All of this will be hurting her so much... I wish I didn't have to. She had wanted me all along, should that have been enough??
I don't know what to do. 
I want this. I need this, I'm hurting too much to just let it go.


Who am I?
I've never known.


I'll be Sunday for her,
and Rachel for Mum.
I'll be good, I promise.
It'll be the best of both worlds.
A good daughter, an honouring daughter, a tolerant, patient and pleasing daughter. You both just tell me what you want and I'll do it my best. We can all be happy...can't we? Please?


I hear about a family I know nothing about. Tales of the land of the long white cloud. I want to grasp it, to live it, to understand 
and to accept 
that it just wasn't meant to be.


I want to show her my life. To show her I made it. To show her my childhood, my achievements. I want to show her the ones who hadn't given me life but made it into a good one. The ones she gave me up for. The ones I'm oh so proud of for loving without reservation, despite my demands and inner yearnings.


Not possible.
Not then,
Not now,
maybe not ever,    and I guess I'm ok with that.


Two worlds.
I fit into neither.
and over the years I begin to realise I was never meant to.
I wasn't made for here.

Found at last.
The moment captured.
Never to be lost again.