Routine.

Watch as the mouse on the wheel willingly runs;

Gaining speed than slowing,

Fatiguing yet not knowing.

See the train door open near the newspaper stand;

Watch the masses flock,

Guided by the clock.


Routine has held creativity captive.

The art of thinking hibernates.

To dream is to be young and naive.

To laugh is to engage in folly.


Lay your eyes on the Sturt’s Desert Pea which parades its beauty;

In the dust it blooms,

Knowing no bounds.

Listen to the non-melodious singing of the evening cockatoos;

Not conforming to pitch,

In dissonance they unite


Release the fear of failing.

Imprint each sense with love.

To dream is to be liberated.

To laugh is to live.


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Healing.

The hand that parts with sorrows that are laden,

Can feel the delicate texture of a leaf’s skeleton.

For she pauses in time and stops to consider

The beauty that is imprinted on her surrounds.


Anxious thoughts are toxic to the body

And are a poison to the soul.

Any catalyst predisposing such should be displaced from the mind.


To be a poor woman who is joyous,

Than to be a rich woman who is embittered.

A cog in a machine is far from the lily in the field.

See how they are clothed in such beauty!


Depression is likened to a black hole

Swallowing a willing victim.

Self pity precedes its seducing grasp; only pride is immunized against its snare.


Seek healing in the solitude,

And comfort in the morning birdsong.

For this is the day that has been made,

So rejoice and be glad in it.

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Mortality.

The youth see but do not hear.

Witness but do not feel.

Taste but do not reason.

Beauty is fleeting it is true.

The desires of youth become weak.

 

One is born into the world.

Another passes in the next room.

We question as we grieve.

God is blamed for the unknown.

Science fails us in heart ache.

 

Why do we dismiss God in illness?

And hate him in suffering?

Praise him in prosperity?

And curse him in death?

Can we not accept that we are mortal?

 

Or is that too heavy a burden to bear?

 

Ivanhoe.

Each sunset and sunrise differs as the days progress.
As the weather grows colder, the flies are less.
The silence it strikes you, like a brown snake to the heel.
And makes you question each of life’s ordeals.

Birds nesting in the scrub wake at first light.
They sing to you in unison their morning plight.
No ear to hear, no heart to feel.
This deserted place is mine alone.

The pub it overflows on a Friday night.
All gents from the stations and rail take part.
A lady behind the bar and a lass who just walked in.
The men are in ‘XXXX’ heaven, it’s all in good cheer.

Only 210 km to the nearest town.
Half a tank of fuel and west bound.
Through herds of cattle, emus and roos,
Through scrub, dry plains, red dirt and dew.

The spirit of the bush has never been so clear.
Conquering hardships and overcoming fear.
A strong resilience to the trials and change.
A praise for each drop of heaven’s rain.

I will soon leave this town in my little blue car.
Drive the 210 km on the tar, west out of town.
This spirit of strength has become a part of me.
Enabling me to love and set my fears free…

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A Child’s Right

I am not going to write alot about this issue but rather share my thoughts regarding a personal experience. It has taken me twelve months to begin to process the visual reality of a child’s rights being so ruthlessly deprived. Any health professional will support the statement that any case involving violence or harm towards a child will always remain present in their memory. I can recall each case concerning a child’s rights that I have encountered within a hospital setting however, this child was in a place less traveled.

In January 2013, I undertook a two week placement at a public health research hospital in Dhaka, Bangladesh. I walked the same route from my apartment every morning and experienced the same uneasiness. For three consecutive mornings I passed a small bundle by the road which should have held a healthy baby. By this baby’s head was a bowl; a begging baby. This was certainly not the first time I had encountered begging, however, there was something different about this child. The situation evoked feelings of anger, protective maternal instincts and a deep sense of grief.

On the fourth day, I passed this same place and the child was no longer there.

Could I have saved this child?

No child should live a life deprived of the basic rights of humanity.

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Please listen to my draft recording of my song “Hush Begging Baby”.

Music seems to be the only way I can begin to express my thoughts on this issue.

Taste and See: Why I believe

There are many reasons why I feel the need to print in words my experiences and thoughts in regards to my faith in Jesus Christ. It is not to make my friends feel uncomfortable nor ignite a fiery debate on religion and hypocrisy. It is likely that if such a debate were to arise I would agree with most of your opinions on hypocrisy in the church particularly when it comes to issues presented by the media such as verbal abuse towards same-sex couples or the prevalence of pedophilia in the modern day church. My intention is to not start a debate on the historical foundations of the Bible and to analyse it for its integrity and validity as a historical source. I have a passion for the study of historiography and have done my own research into the construction of the Bible as a historical text. I would encourage you to do the same. I have no interest in being accused of being arrogant and disrespectful of anyone’s beliefs. I will respect you and listen to your opinion. I appreciate you doing the same for me – thankyou.

I wouldn’t have a faith in Jesus Christ if my faith was based on my church attendance or my experience of Christian environments. Sure I did go to Sunday school, a youth group and a Christian school for seven years, but this was not the basis of my faith. I came to know Jesus when I was eight years of age. As a child, I had terrible dreams where I would see things and I came to know a peace in Jesus when I prayed which quashed these dreams. I began reading the Old Testament of the Bible as a child and was fascinated by the stories of Noah, Moses, Jacob and Samuel. At this time my family were under intense levels of stress and I had a dream where I met God who told me everything would be ok. I recall racing into Mum and Dad’s room as a kid, proclaiming what I had seen. From these events, I formed a relationship with Jesus and trusted him.

To be honest, most of my lonely moments in life have been experienced within the church and a Christian environment. I recall feeling depressed at my Christian school as a child as I didn’t have many friends and became embittered by the hypocrisy of the school’s teaching. As an adult I have visited numerous churches of all denominations from Anglican, Presbyterian, Evangelical, to the Assemblies of God, Church of Christ, Baptist, House Churches, Uniting Churches…etc.  I have revisited few of these churches and attended a warm Baptist Church for many years. However, too many times I have sat in a pew preferring to be having a drink with a few mates than enduring the pain of being in a church that has lost sight of Jesus.  Why is this the case and why do I still have faith in Jesus Christ?

I have faith in Jesus Christ because I know He is God and have experienced His love. I have faith in Jesus Christ not because of what I have seen in the Church or what I haven’t seen, but because of what I have known and researched. Whilst humans are running the Church, it will be flawed and brimming with hypocrisy. I am still perplexed by the divisions in the Church, the array of denominations and disparity in doctrine!

I have faith in Jesus Christ because I am aware of my mortality and inevitable death and hold onto the hope of eternal life that comes with knowing Him! I am a nurse and have seen death. I have felt the movement of a person’s spirit from this world to another dimension. I have prepared a body for the morgue and visualised the lifelessness of the human body after death. Why wait till death to know what happens when our bodies degrade?

I encourage you to do your own research into literature, people’s accounts, your own experiences and history to consolidate what you believe. Why wait till a ‘Jesus all about life’ poster ‘pisses you off’? Why wait till the next debate on same-sex marriage and the church? Why wait till you are a geriatric patient in a hospital and are visited by the local chaplain? I am so thankful for my faith in Jesus that I can walk forward in life knowing that despite all circumstances I have hope and am loved by an incredible God. I hope that one day you can know this too.

Donec Mors Nos Separaverit

I can not help but think of the spiritual world,

As I lay out the body to rest.

It’s my duty to uphold your identity, dignity and wishes.

The body which was once overflowing with youth,

Stares at me with vacant eyes.

Donec mors nos separaverit

 

I close those eyes, gently pressing the eyelids shut.

The limbs so cold and still,

Becoming stiff as I lay the arms across the chest.

You were once like me; did you dream?

Did you imagine this would be your end?

Donec mors nos separaverit

 

If I was to say there was no life after your passing,

I would not come back to this place tomorrow.

I would eat, drink, be merry,

For eternal death, nothingness, suffering is near.

I feel a movement in the room,

As I close the bag around the face.

Surely this is not the end?

Your spirit moves to a new dimension.

Where to now?

I close the door behind me.

Death does part you, so they cry.