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To think that GOD loves me |
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Autobiography Dieter R. Fischer Book 8 |
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To think that GOD loves me |
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Autobiography Dieter R. Fischer Book 8 |
THE WINNER GAVE IT ALL GIVEN YOUR ALL - NOW WHAT ? HOME ISBN 0 9577 426 8 1 Book 8 / Ch 4 Written / Published 14/11 - 16/11/09
4. Taste the ipassion Adelaide has been sweltering in an unprecedented heat wave. It's not even summer. Throughout this week, in mid November 09, temperatures reached the high 30's on the centigrade scale. In preparation to start this chapter I was sitting on the lounge, reading through my journal, while watching television. The inspiration what to write, what kind of story to begin with, came totally unexpected - out of the television. Watching the ABC's Stateline Program in the background I read through my journal. On the third day, September 09, I read how I was arriving in Brisbane, crossing the Story Bridge on my GIANT bicycle. I also read that I had seen a lone pedestrian crossing the bridge on foot. That man was a look-alike to a well-known politician in South Australia. Just as I was reading his name, that same gentlemen, none other than our Attorney-General, appeared for only a few seconds on the TV screen. What amazing timing!
That same day back in September I had started out in a very similar fashion. It was the day of my first leg of my 2000 km+ bike ride up the Queensland Coast, from Coolangatta to Cairns. A local cyclist, also enjoying some exercise on his two-wheeler, rode with me side by side for a short distance. I saw a distinct resemblance in this middle-aged man to a pastor I knew well in Adelaide. Such look-a-like encounters had featured very prominently during my 03 surprise excursion across the Pacific (Book 1). (Please note, whilst the next few paragraphs are events in Brisbane, later in the chapter we shall return to the start of my ride on Queensland's Gold Coast).
Brisbane's Story Bridge and the city lights viewed from the bridge.
Let me continue with this story, since it started near the river, pictured in above photos. It was the day after I had arrived in Brisbane, Sept. 10th, 09, when I toured the city on my GIANT. I needed more air in my tyre, so I dismounted and pumped a little more into it. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a motor car slowly driving by. Next it entered the car park of the Marriott Hotel. I couldn't help reading the registration plate: LVI 116. My mind had long ago had seen the letters LV as LoVe. I almost could hear the car speak "Love I I I 6". Immediately November 16 came to mind. This date happens to be that of publishing this chapter, God willing. It reminded me of the devastating storm, which hit Brisbane on that day in 2008. I was there at the time, just before commencing another bicycle trip. How will I ever forget my encounter with Radio 1116? (See Book 7, Chapter 14 - I just noticed - in that chapter is also an ND twist. Read on for another one, plus another registration plate LVI ...) Tyres pumped up I continued my tour of Brisbane, cycling through the Botanic Gardens and back into the city. I spent a few minutes meditating inside St. John's Cathedral. In the pew was a bible. I picked it up and opened it at random. The passage opened to the book of Zechariah.
(Back to Brisbane) As I was meditating over the verse in Zechariah, (The Lord will make flashing clouds) the thought popped into my head: Why not a brief visit to the bus stop on Wynnum Road? On 16.11.08 I had stood there and taken shelter for 45 minutes, while around me thunder roared and lightning flashed across the darkened Sunday afternoon sky. It only took a few minutes, cycling over the Story Bridge and down memory lane, and I was again standing under the Wynnum Rd, corner Walter St. bus shelter, taking a photo. This time I noticed that it was bus stop No. 16 - how well does this go with the scripture I had read at the Cathedral minutes earlier - Zechariah 10.1?
The advertisement on the bus shelter had changed, of course. Now it was for a famous brand of coffee ... ...Colombia. Their slogan: Taste the passion. - - - - - - - Brisbane Photo exploits
Top left: Isabel ylor, O My...! Can't help it - I saw TAO!
(The latest happening - back in Adelaide). Take a look at God's humour this morning! In Chapter 9, Book 7 you will find a picture of the word WONDER, which I scanned from my Look cycling shirt. You will also find that I had seen the word toys as story, by only inserting the letter r). On the morning of writing, Sunday 15th November - or 11.15 (take note!) I decided to go for an early ride before church. Since the predicted temperature was to reach 40 Centigrade, and I had not been out much during this heat wave, a brief ride was on the agenda. Where normally I'd just slip into any old T-shirt and shorts, this morning for some reason, I decided to sport my lycras (bike pants) and a cycling shirt, one I had not worn in years:
CAFE DE COLOMBIA bike shirt
A scripture comes to mind: Jesus in the fire-lighting business: "I came to send fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!" Jesus was talking about God's love for us, inflaming our hearts for HIM. This takes no firelighter, but a passion for truth and justice, kindled by a burning desire within, to do HIS will, to please the ONE you love. Returning from my bike riding around 9.15 AM I didn't know where the Lord wanted me to go to church. I felt to go to one about two kilometers away, where I had been a few times over many years. A huge tapestry hung the wall: How the scripture displayed in large letters, fits here so well - COI I, I 6 - "All things were made through Christ and for Christ." - - - - - - -
Before writing about the big ride in Queensland, another fresh bit of magic locally. On Sunday 15.11 after spending hours writing this chapter, I felt the urge to take an evening cycle around the district. After I had mounted my bike, cycling down Goodall Road, I remembered a radio news item from two days earlier. A road death had occurred in the early hours of Friday 13th November on Bridge Road, Salisbury East. Why not take a look? I had not checked out road crashes for many months. The sequence of events started a few evenings before. I had googled the website of a real estate agent in Brisbane. (How I came to google his name Chris ... I shall keep to myself). One of his web pages had a spelling error. The word addtions needed an i to make sense. I sent the gentleman a brief message, pointing out the spelling error. (Actually, I just remember - there was also a similarity in his phone number and that of ours). It took another 12 hours before my mind opened to see not only a missing i in addtion, but add i. The next morning I woke very early at 4.44 AM. Something was brewing, I knew it. It came that day, either during prayer or later in the day - add i into AM AM AM to create Mama Mia. I had written about this Abba song in Chapter 20, Book 4. There was a connection to a TV personality, Kochie, the popular co-host of Channel Seven's Sunrise. Watching Sunrise on Thursday morning, the day after discovering the missing i - yes, that's how AM AM AM came about - during the weather a huge monster truck screened; the word REX in huge letters on the side of the vehicle. The agent, who misspelled addtions was a REMAX agent. That's why AM stood out. The next day my wife bought Saturday's Advertiser. In the SA Weekend magazine, on page 12 - I saw something I can't recall ever seeing before - a huge drop letter in lower case, the letter i.
Continuing on my bike, on 15/11 I went for a brief evening ride and wanted to check out a road fatality that had occurred on Bridge Road, Salisbury East). After the Smith Road turn-off, just around the corner, is the little church, where I had played the trumpet. I thought I may have missed the crash site. But only a few hundred meters before The Grave, sorry The Grove Way did I notice yellow paint, on the roadway, which police had used to highlight skid marks etc. The news had said that the crash occurred during a high-speed police chase. This may explain the noise we had heard in our street. A number of times cars had roared past at high speed, waking us up that night. How the car came to crash on the dual-lane, straight road and crashed into trees, taking down a light pole, is a mystery. Another mystery is this ticket , which I found at the crash scene, and a Beck's bottle top.
UNITAB horse racing ticket and bottle top.
(Back to cycling in Southern Queensland) My September 09 bicycle ride up the coast of Queensland started with a thought. If I can ride south from Brisbane for 1400 kilometers, why not north for 2000?
My fun observations started on the airplane. The gentleman beside me tried to read a book, just as I was. I sensed he wasn't progressing much, being distracted by the TV screen in the seat in front of him and other interruptions. I was reading the book I had mentioned a few chapters ago, Held Hostage by Ken Cooper. The date was September 7th. Just before landing at Coolangatta airport I had been reading up to Chapter 7. Taking a glance across at the reader next to me, I smiled as I noticed that he was up to Chapter 9 - on 7.9. Virgin Blue Airlines prints a monthly magazine for air travelers. It was uncanny, as I flicked through the glossy pages, how my brain recognized headlines, articles, even advertisements, which I could relate to directly. Here is a good example. This advertisement grabbed my attention. It's an ad for industrial real estate. The address is either the very same building, or perhaps next door, to where I had worked after migrating to Australia way back in 1969/70.
There were two reasons I flew into the Gold Coast, instead of starting my ride in Brisbane. Firstly, the weather during my Nov. 08 ride was such that I saw very little of the Gold Coast. Secondly, I knew a friendly couple from the table tennis group at Elizabeth, where I play most weeks were up there, and I wanted to pay a visit. Glad I did. The same night, after I had flow in from Adelaide, my friends invited me to join them for a meal at the local Bowls Club. As a non-member I had to sign in, giving my details, and take the ticket as ID, being a guest on the club's premises. I put the ticket into my pocket not even looking at it, until the day after. When I per chance looked at the numbers, they looked so much like my mobile telephone number. The similarity, unless it's just my view of numbers, made me question my thinking: Do I really suffer from a compulsive obsessive disorder - seeing magic in numbers or is there indeed something behind it? Let me answer my own question: There is something behind IT ALL. Not only during this journey, but also through clear observations I made - my story has reached far and wide, right into the highest echelons of the Australian *Government. It just can't all be co-incidence.
I am convinced there is something happening behind the scenes. All know, except my family, who does not want to even look or listen. Take a look at this scan and judge the Club's ticket number, and another discovery, for yourself:
But there's more. At church this morning the bible reading came from John Chapter 21. In Verse 11 we read, how our Lord came to the rescue of Simon Peter and the other fishermen, who had caught nothing all night. Then the resurrected Jesus came on the scene. Suddenly they found themselves struggling to land all the fish caught in their net. It was so big, it threatened to break, but didn't. Somebody at the scene either must have been writing a journal and/or had the same passion for numbers as I have. He counted and recorded the numbers of fish caught - 153! Taking directive from the resurrected Jesus made all the difference. How I wished our nation's leaders would read, believe and act after consulting HIM.
I never even considered buying the 'crack the code in 43 seconds' T shirt. But ... as I was writing I just remembered another T-shirt. Take a look!
(Back to cycling in Southern Queensland) What better way to start the first full day of my holiday on the Gold Coast than a brisk walk? Kirra Beach was only a few minutes away from the hostel I was staying at. On the corner of Surf Street, not thinking of anything, as if that were possible, I spotted a number painted in white letters on the footpath. 115 took my attention. Only a meter or so away were six letters, two groups of 3, scratched into the surface of the concrete. The two short words sounded like male names - SID LES. I stopped and pondered for a moment, when my DN code activated inside my brain: SID LES turned into - SIN LES. Taking the 5 from 115 I arrived at SINLESS, leaving the two digits 11 = No.1 [God] won.
Later that morning my friends invited me to join them for a drive in the car. They had planned to do this anyway, driving across the border and exploring the northern New South Wales hinterland. It was a fantastic day, great weather, good company. I felt totally relaxed, being chauffeured through rolling hills, green meadows and historic towns. Strolling around Murwillumbah I had a peep into a real-estate agent's shop window. A house in Railway Tce. was for sale for $ 289 000. As one from far away does, I read through the ad, thinking, I could afford that, if ... Reading further down the advertisement, the price rose to $ 299 000. Interesting pricing structure, I thought.
My hosts had warned me to expect a culture shock, as we approached the town of Nimbin, about 30 kilometers from Lismore. Situated amidst glorious, lush farming country the quiet place had gradually been taken over by a hippy culture, turning it into a Mecca for dropouts from all over. Where sidewalk cafes and restaurants normally smell of coffee or freshly cooked fish and chips, Nimbin's aroma was that of grass, also called weed*, pot or marijuana. No doubt, Nimbians enjoyed their alternative lifestyle. One street name is even called - Alternative Way.
In the photo below you will see a small notice, which I photographed. It was attached to the window of the museum. The text proves, even those living the alternative lifestyle, must be thinking about God.
The next day was Wednesday, the day I commenced my longest ever bike ride - 2000+ kilometers, in around 3 weeks. I can't recall, but did I not have reason to be mildly bemused that (according to my diary) I left my hostel, ready packed up for the big ride, on 9/9/09 at 9 AM? Before heading north I took a brief detour to Kirra Beach and asked a passer-by to take the above photo. Earlier that morning I had had a little encounter with sa nd, real sand. On the cycling path along the Esplanade sand had covered a section of the path, making it hard for cyclists to negotiate. I cut a path with my bare hands and feet so nobody would get stuck. It was a good excuse to go back for the photo and to document the start of my journey. Already so much had taken place, and I had not even started the actual cycling trip. (It makes me think - will we reach Cairns in the chapters following, before the wet season sets in - Christmas?) There was a slight distraction on my first day of riding. Fran Kelly, on the ABC's AM program, reported about young Jessica Watson, who was attempting to be the youngest ever to sail solo around the world. On her first day's sailing out of Brisbane, her boat got damaged after a minor collision with a cargo vessel. The news continued, reporting that the young adventurer was limping into Southport for repairs. A large media contingent had gathered and was eagerly waiting for her. Well, I purposely cycled via Southport, saw the Yacht Club and Marina etc. I enquired if anybody knew when the young sailor was due, but found nobody - no media, no Jessica and no boat.
Maybe I had a better talent in spotting car registration plates and transforming them into messages? Cycling long distances on my own, on busy roads there were many registration plates and much time to ponder them. It happened later that afternoon, in a small group of shops, not far from the M1 Motorway. Mounting my bike after refilling my water flask at a liquor store (with Jim Beam, what else?) I noticed a 4WD exiting the driveway. Because the registration plate included 55 my brain read and pondered the entire rego number - 055 L J T. A few kilometers further on a truck entered a driveway, just ahead of me. Its registration plate was very similar. It jolted those same brain cells into life, into seeing ... love ... 055 LVI. Had I not year ago seen the letters LV as 55. Here they were in one license plate! My oxygen flooded brain, cycling does that to you, created a now familiar message, using these registration plates:
Friends, love is what life is all about. God is love. The central theme of all my writing is - Love won. Love still wins. End of story. |
