|
Below: Google Images This winner gave IT ALL |
|
|
|
To think that GOD loves me |
|
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 5 Written / Pub. 5/12 - 9/12/09 |
|
As with other chapters, here I first write about what's on my heart at the present, then in the latter part continue our Sept 09 bicycle journey. |
6. [Letter 4] is grace The date was right. This short sentence appeared in the previous chapter. The date referred to 12.9. On the top of the page in my dairy I wrote one word: GRACE. Technically speaking, I uploaded chapter 5 not on 30.11, but two minutes after midnight, which was by then 1.12.09. The similarity between 12.9 and 1.12.09 led me to a further discovery - leading right back to - GRACE.
If we look at the date 129 in that way, we arrive at 17. This number immediately, in my mind, brings out an incident on July 1st 07, where my friend Dave and I spent a big day visiting Adelaide's south. After arriving home I had been dumbfounded by the word Grace in Ephesians 1, 7. (Book 6, Chapter 10). Usually, on the morning of uploading a chapter my mind wanders back and reprocesses what I had written. While writing the focus is more on sentence structure, spelling and style etc. I often marvel at myself, what I discover and the weird connections I write about. But sadly, I don't have a yardstick to measure, if these incidences are mere co-incidences or if there are other emotionally sensitive people, who are not numerologists, but experience similar magic with numbers etc. (To decipher the meaning of the title [Letter 4 is grace] wait until Bundaberg later in this chapter). - - - - - - - On the morning of discovering and thinking about the number 129 as 17, I was just loading my disabled client Vicky, the lady who likes wearing NY, Rinnai or GGG hats, into the government van. The wheelchair all secured, the rear ramp back up and the door shut, I went back behind the wheel, ready to drive away. The time was 9 to 9.
Looking at the tachometer of the van the digits hit me - 8.51. But how fluky were the other digits, those of the odometer reading at that same moment - 18715? Just as I had been thinking of 17 these digits were staring at me!
851 18715
- - - - - - -
On the morning of commencing this chapter I had some serious fun with a TV breakfast show. A brave young lady was showing off a very large python snake. She explained: "If you see one of these around, don't be alarmed, it's not poisonous, but very useful in keeping rodent numbers down. This snake hasn't got a name, but if you can think of one, please sent us an email." Don't I love a challenge, the opportunity to naming a snake? When I started typing the following email all I had in mind was the word snake backwards, minus the N. But it turned out a little different and led in another direction, down the path of my one-track, digitised mind:
In the same edition breakfast show Tiger Woods, the super goofer, sorry golfer had been in the news for days, for all the wrong reasons.
It's a long shot, if you pardon the pun, and I may be completely off track, but could it be that the timing of Tiger's remorse was not co-incidental? The Joyful News calendar for the month of December 09 quotes a very brief, but straight forward command - repent! The timing would be right - In early December, after Tiger turned the page of the calendar and read it, he decided to repent of his wrongs doings and confess them to his wife?
God "now commandeth all men everywhere to repent."
God not only means business, he knows HIS business, with precision timing!
- - - - - - -
- - - - - - -
On the afternoon before commencing this chapter I went to a memorial service for a 45 year-old doctor, who had passed away suddenly. It all started with an announcement in our Messenger Press Newspaper, one I had often quoted from in my early books. Printed in full colour on page 7 it took up one quarter of the page, which included his photo. It gave his name (DR T) and details of the memorial service on Friday 4.12.09, at 4.30 PM. During the week I had been looking for his entry in the Adelaide White Pages telephone directory. I could not find it.
Thinking about it for two days I came up with more interesting facts. The surnames on page 1058 had the initials LJ and TJ. One address was No.43 S... Street, the other at No. 10 Green .. La. (I took a brief cycle to check out both addresses, while writing this chapter. S.... Street runs of Royal Ave.) These strange facts, plus an inner urge to go, made me drive to Adelaide's outer northern suburb of Craigmore, where the memorial service was held.
The 4.12 event at Craigmore was at Yorketown Road, at No. 213 to be precise. It all made sense. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. I purposely drove around the corner and parked the Suzuki in a back street. There were two vehicles already there. Parked ahead of me was registration No ...005. The vehicle behind was ..OA 717. It was hard not notice this late Model Toyota Corolla ...
...because it's headlights were on, but no driver or passenger in it. How can this be? Don't all late model vehicles have a warning (lights-on) devise? The Craigmore Hall was crowded. It suited me. I watched the service, standing in the open doorway, just in case I felt like slipping away early. The more I heard about DR Sean T, all the accolades for him, the more I was amazed. The local doctor, who I was told took his own life, was described as caring, generous and humorous; an outspoken individual, who also loved singing. At funerals you always hear nice things about people. It was easy to identify with DR T. More so after one speaker mentioned that Sean loved table tennis and soccer. That struck me as most interesting. Before driving to Craigmore I had been playing table tennis at our Elizabeth table tennis group. The memorial service was only five minutes drive away. Not only had I come from table tennis, I was only hours later going to Hindmarsh Stadium to watch a game of football (soccer). Adelaide United played against the Newcastle Jets in Round ...17 of the A-League. Our team lost 2:0.
- - - - - - -
Title Page - Reader's Digest, November 09
The New Wonder Drug - Should everyone take statins?
(Back to cycling Queensland - 13/9/09) On leaving the caravan park at Pomona I learned the street address where I had stayed: 15 PAVILLION Street. Having played the Roman numerals game with MILLION, we won't bother here. However, it's interesting to note: Take Pa from Pavillion, the numbers mainly come out as 1 5, which digitally is IS. Later that same day, after leaving 15 Pavillion Street I was to cycle along a road called, that's why I make a point of it - ISIS Highway. Back on the Bruce Highway a friendly lady, sitting in a roadhouse carpark selling strawberries, assured me that the alternative route to Maryborough is excellent for cyclists. So after a lunch stop, and a little shopping in the hilly town of Gympie, I left the Bruce Highway and turned north-east towards Tin Can Bay. Turning north again, before reaching the coast, this scenic detour gently led through pretty pine forest plantations. It's called Tuan Forest Road. Having left the Bruce Highway meant there was nothing, no shop or pub for 84 kilometres. No dramas; I just made sure to carry a little extra water and a snack. Amazing, how I found that after a good breakfast I could cycle until well after midday without food and only one flask (750 ml) of liquid, unless the weather was very hot. That Sunday (September 13th) conditions could not have been better. With extensive pine forest plantations on both sides of Tuan Forest Road I felt I was cycling through South Australia's south-east, where timber is also commercially grown, on a grand scale. Riding along that afternoon I was listening, for the first time on this ride, to the transistor radio. A bubbly, female presenter named Poppy, hosted her program Straight Talk. One subject that afternoon was Clairvoyancy, UFO's, the paranormal etc. I was listening to stuff, which stirred my spirit. I felt like phoning up and questioning, why intelligent people could seriously believe some of the things they phoned in with. If I were to tell them about the supernatural powers of the Holy Spirit, the same people probably would laugh at me.
During the long hours pedalling I had lots of time to think. I juggled numbers. The radio station's phone number (Radio 2 SM - obviously linked from Sydney nationally ) 13 12 69 made that day's date 13/9 + 126. Of course at that stage I had no idea that at my final destination, Cairns, I would be totalling *1260 kilometres.
A vehicle had pulled off the side of the road. The registration plate .. 272 raised my level of number recognition, if that were possible. Right opposite were a combination of numbers, more digits to play with: 479 and right underneath 511. Why red letters? Are they believers in ... 4 X 79 and 2 x 72? Staying at the Wallace Caravan Park in Maryborough I got talking to a German couple. Both were Chemists. One used to work for pharmaceutical giant Hoechst, the other for Boehringer. Immediately the name rang a bell.
Somebody had left a Sunday Mail newspaper at the caravan park kitchen. I browsed over it and, should I be surprised, found some doubtful stories. One made headline news, since it surrounded a famous date - 9/11. On that infamous date a young man, allegedly, played a joke with fellow passengers, while flying on a V-Australia jet from Brisbane to LA. Using an onboard chatroom he typed: "I have a bomb", which caused panic, when it appeared on the screens. According to press reports the sage continued:
The Mary River, which runs through Maryborough (Pop. 24 000 in '97) was front-page headline in that same newspaper shown above. A planned dam at Traveston (note the name) created much controversy. The Queensland Government had already spent in excess of $ 500 million Dollars, according to ABC online.
Eating my lunch in a park at Childers, I recalled how this town had been the scene of a horrible tragedy. In June 2000 a fire in the Palace Backpacker hostel took the lives of 15 young people. I enquired about it and was directed to a building in the main street. Upstairs in a large room, also used as a gallery, a memorial wall with the names and photographs of the victims was displayed. The fire had revealed how totally inadequate, or non-existent safety procedures were at the time. The deaths occurred because victims became trapped by locked doors and barred windows in an upstairs, crowded dormitory. A man was later charged with arson and murder and imprisoned for life. As I reflected the names of each victim, one suddenly stood out. Melissa. Her full name is Melissa Jane Smith. Jane Smith is a common name. I know somebody by that name. But a further thought stirred in my brain, a reflection on an incident a few days earlier, also in a backpacker's hostel. I had placed some milk into the communal fridge. According to the rules, I filled in a label to mark my item with my name and the date. When I went back the next morning to use my milk, my name had been crossed out and another written on it - Janet Smith. This is why the name Melissa Jane Smith, a Childers victim, reminded me of Janet Smith, the name on my milk two days earlier. There was another task I felt obliged to do during my Childers lunch stop. I wanted to please a man called Clint. I didn't know Clint from a bar of s...ugar - OK, soap, but since we're approaching Australia's sugar capital Bundaberg ... Beside the Bruce Highway, a few kilometers outside Childers, I had spotted a huge advertisement for a tyre business. The sign read: "SAY HELLO TO CLINT AT ISIS TYRE SERVICE'. I was used to obeying road signs, so I made a point of looking for ISIS Tyres. It was right in the main street. I pedalled up to the wide open door and called out: "Is Clint in?" A lady came out of an adjacent office and said that Clint was on the phone. I said I just wanted to say Hello. She assured me she would pass on my hello ... after giving my bicycle tyres a good check over (just kidding). The name ISIS had drawn my attention, especially after I found out that the road to Bundaberg, away from the Bruce Highway, was called the ISIS Highway. How aptly named is ISIS? According to Wikipedia ISIS is the Roman goddess of motherhood, magic and fertility. Not sure about motherhood or fertility, my wife IS is better qualified there, but magic? Yes, ISIS is right up my alley!
About 25 kilometres before Bundaberg I had my first mishap. Railway lines and bicycles don't go well together. I didn't slow down enough, hitting the rails of the sugar train line rather harshly. One of my pannier bags shifted and got caught in the spokes. There was minor damage, which I had repaired the next day in Bundaberg.
Since I decided to stay two nights in Bundaberg, the town famous for sugar and rum, there was time to watch a movie at the local theatre. The title of the movie that evening, a few days after my GRACE magic, was Disgrace. (Now you understand why the title of this chapter).
There was more letter-ology in Bundaberg, Queensland Australia. The place has something in common, almost, with New Orleans, Louisiana USA - Bourbon Street. Bundaberg, however goes one letter better. Here the main street is called Bourbong Street. Note the letter g! Sitting inside the magnificently decorated Holy Rosary Church for prayer and meditation I noticed the name of a prominent citizen, who had a stained-glass window named after him, Mr. Shearin. Doesn't it look like the letter g is missing?
As you can see, I was not the average tourist. I noticed different things. Likewise, I photographed different subjects. What did I see in this building to stop and take a photo?
Shopfront - Bundaberg Queensland,
- - - - - - -
Cycling north, away from Bundaberg, I suddenly remembered I totally had forgotten to enquire and possibly have a look at the tilt-train crash site, which was headline news in 2004. The accident on *16/11 (that date must be disasters day in Queensland?) derailed 7 out of 9 carriages of the northbound express train, which was travelling too fast (115 km/h) around a bend. Back then I had been bemused reading a comment by an official. He was telling of all the broken glass. As if a train would crash at over 100 km/hour and one should be surprised about all the broken glass! (Book 3, Chapter 37).
The little town of Rosedale, what a nice name, has a pub with an equally nice name - The Royal Hotel, where I rested over an egg and bacon burger. It was a very hot day, the lemonade very refreshing. The P & F (parents and friends) group at the school must have known about my favourite numbers. A sign announced their meeting on 14 Sept. at 3.15.
After a 130 kilometre day, which concluded with a slowly leaking tube, I limped into Bororen just on sunset. Bororen was the only place where, apart from the few drops the first night, I experienced a touch of rain. It was only minor, I won't even mention it. Since the caravan park at Miriam Vale did not have a camp kitchen, I cycled another 13 kilometres to Bororen, pumping up my tyre every few kilometres. Just outside Bororen I saw in large white paint, a number on the roadway - 166 999.
The Bororen camp kitchen was not very well equipped. I had bought a tin of Irish Stew to cook. However, even if I had found a tin opener, it would have been awkward to prepare Irish Stew on a BBQ plate without a pot. My dinner was bread and some leftovers that night. But I didn't get upset about such a little thing. I wouldn't let it spoil my day. I won't even mention it.
- - - - - - - - -
Fellow cyclists, Bruce Highway, near Tallum Sands turn-off
The couple's names were Paul and Mary. I was thinking to myself - here we are, three mad cyclists: Dieter, Paul and Mary. Paul was saying that food had been a problem for them in places. No supplies in between vast empty stretches. Looking at their loaded bicycles (in the photo Paul is holding mine) made mine look like it were on a pleasure cruise, compared to their battle ships. The friendly Czech couple enthusiastically advised me to take the short detour via Tallum Sands and Boyne Island, which I probably would not have done otherwise. (Aha, N Boy? Read on). Hearing the names Dieter, Paul and Mary, sounds a bit like Peter, Paul and Mary, three musicians of a different era. According to Wikipedia this American folk/pop group, how ironic, started out singing at The Bitter End night club in New York. Here is what I found so amazing, why I am writing about it here: I had Dieter, Paul and Mary on my mind as I was cycling into Tallum Sands and was listening to the 2 PM News, only an hour or so after meeting Paul and Mary. Suddenly, over the airwaves out of my radio I heard the American pop group Peter, Paul and Mary mentioned. What amazing timing! The female singer of the 1960's group had died of cancer. She was aged 72.
- - - - - - - Sunset above Auckland Inlet, Gladstone, Queensland
- - - - - - -
The river is the Mary River, the location of the dam - Traveston. Mary, the lady whose passing I had heard on radio that day, had the surname - Travers. Apply the code: R - TON. The N boy scored a TOR. - - - - - - -
The reading in Our Daily Bread for Dec 9, 2009 - 1. Kings 3, Verses 4-14) brings out this point: Recognizing our own smallness can cause us to embrace God's greatness. Bill Crowder quotes the wisest man, who ever lived, admitting his smallness, after inheriting his father David's throne:
With this attitude Solomon asked God for the wisdom to lead in a way that would please God and help others (V. 9). Bill Crowder concludes with words of wisdom all men should take to heart
The word small has been a part of my journey for many years. It's shown in part on the entry page of my website, a painted wall, photographed by my daughter in Rosina Street Adelaide. All that shows of the words SMALL CAR is ALL CA and the number 10 above it.
How ironic, the letters SM are missing. In our code they represent 5 1000, the digits so frequently mentioned in this chapter! The number ten represents N & T, which brings us back to the symbolic, impacting number 414. The remaining letters of small (ALL) contain the Roman numerals for 5050. Multiply this by ten and it transforms into LD, so prominently displayed in the header of this book. (The scan is part of Ken Cooper's book Held Hostage, which also received a mention in this chapter). The missing letters - besides LD - HE. Friends, it's not how small you start out, or how small you feel. What counts is the size of our GOD. Ask HIM for wisdom to open your eyes to HIS greatness. You will become smaller and smaller; alors - bigger and bigger.
|