Friday, 19 December 2014

My Adventures with God. More Gifts from God


Chapter 31 ... More Gifts from God

For the next period of time we survived, just. Wonderfully God provided all we needed

This gift of preaching God had given me (which extended to Religious Education lessons in the local schools), and the fact that otherwise most of what you have to do to keep a church ticking over is pretty mechanical and can be done even with your brain chemicals shot to pieces, meant that I was able to keep my parish running as well as most clergy do.

I had to look after the family and I did. “Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” (1 Tim:5,8)

Sue survived with God talking her through each day. I won't say much here because that is her story, but basically her brain chemicals were such that she only had enough for a tiny amount of emotional energy each day, so that reserve had to be shepherded meticulously. God was talking her through it constantly so she did what he said when he said and no more, that way she got through. Could God have just miraculously given her more or healed her completely, of course he could, but he didn't, he did it this way and this way was still a miracle.

Inez was the main human looking after Sue at this time. Being in the grip of a depression myself I was a drain rather than boost to Sue’s already dangerously low emotional energy levels. So it was better for me to minimise contact with her and concentrate on spending time with the kids. I can remember there were a run of old movies on TV on Sunday afternoons and if I lay on the floor the kids would all pile up all over me like puppies and we would watch it together.

We were, as I said earlier, spending our savings at a great rate hiring home help and babysitters. However I always took one of the kids with me when I went out visiting – for two reasons. Firstly in my depressed mental state I was not bright sparkly company, so a baby as a “conversation piece” especially when visiting elderly shut-ins it was a great advantage. The second was more serious. If you have never suffered real depression you may not understand this, but I was continually on the verge of being overwhelmed by despair and haunted by thoughts of suicide and harassed by persistent temptation to think that the pain would all end if I just killed myself. I took one of the kids with me because I was not going to do anything silly with one of them in the car!

The bishop did not ever say anything to me directly but at clergy days there were denunciations of unnamed clergy who spent too much time with their families and took their baby parish visiting. I think I was the priest he meant. Needless to say I ignored these jibes, although they were an added burden.

Spiritual Grandparents..

Right back when we first moved from Sydney where both my parents and Sue’s parents lived, Sue asked God to provide substitute “grandparent” figures for the children. He did. Brilliantly!

Here in Lang Lang in the time of our and their greatest need God delivered big time. Inez was the ultimate example. The kids called her Aunt Inez, but that contracted to Ankie and stuck. As well as being the mainstay that kept Sue alive she was a substitute grandmother to all the children. Her husband “Uncle Orrie” also fulfilled a very special role in their lives. I have not words to convey how much she did. But she (and God) did it.

Leon Puddy was babysitting young Elizabeth and cooking for us. Her husband Ian became very special in Elizabeth’s life. He emptied out the garden shed to make a play house for her and even spent hours playing her favourite “tea parties”. The special place this time had in her life can be judged from the following account. One morning as Sue dropped off Elizabeth off at Puddy’s (a few years must now have passed and Sue was back working a bit as a GP with Orrie) Elizabeth ran ahead to find “Daddy Pud”. Sue and Leon followed. The ladder Ian had put up to clean the gutters was still standing. Elizabeth was bent over the crumpled heap below it. Rushing forward and pushing Elizabeth back Sue quickly saw that Ian was dead. Minutes later when Orrie arrived Sue said over Elizabeth’s head “He's gone” A little voice from her side chirped up “He's not gone. He's dead”. Elizabeth kept a picture of “Daddy Pud” in a frame by her bed for many years. One time her younger sister picked up the photo and asked who it was. After Elizabeth had explained the still very young Jenny asked “Where is he?” Elizabeth just pointed up to heaven. A very literal minded Jenny responded “What, on the roof?”

For Tim our second child it was Helen Batten. Helen was the one I mentioned being converted by my cold door-knocking, the one who had collected all the children from her street and brought them to Sunday School. Helen had a rural mail run. This meant driving every morning on her extensive farming district round delivering mail to the roadside mail boxes. She took Tim with her every day. She even let him put the mail in the boxes which must have slowed her up considerably. But she was that sort of kindly loving person, and what she did, for Tim in particular, was of inestimable value at that time.

Our eldest, David also got some “quality time” with me. He had done kindergarten year at the local state school. At the suggestion of some of the locals who had sent their children to the Anglican private school at Mount Eliza we took him for an interview and test. In one year he was already six months behind their students. We decided to make whatever sacrifice was needed to send him there. And after his first year at Peninsula Grammar he won a prize for the most improved student – he had caught up! It was a 40 minute drive each way so we got a lot of talking time! Needless to say at clergy meetings the bishop deplored (unnamed) clergy who spent time out of parish driving their children to school! Actually by then there were several families going and we had an efficient car pool, but why waste breath explaining things like that to bishops who can’t even talk to you man to man!

The worst was now over. We were still in pretty bad shape, but the worst was over.



No comments:

Post a Comment