Peace beyond our understanding



             



    
                        Rabaul - photo Zena Grant-Thomson




“Bye, Robyn!” I called as she headed out to work.
“Have a good day,” she replied.
"I'm planning to go and look at the Chinese shops, and have a walk around near the water," I told her. The joys of holidays!

I combed my damp hair, ready for the day. I was having a relaxing holiday in Rabaul with Robyn, after my year’s teaching on New Ireland.

Suddenly I was enveloped in strong, tangible peace. 
I stood still to enjoy it. The heavy tropical air was moist and hot but I no longer noticed it pressing on my skin. All I could feel was this wonderful peace. 

 This must be the peace that passes all understanding the Bible mentions, I thought.
I felt so calm. So strong.
If I always felt like this, I could do anything, I thought. I could cope with anything at all.

My thoughts were interrupted by the screech of tyres in the driveway. Footsteps clattered up the steps. My brother-in-law's black curly hair and worried face appeared at the door.
“Michael!” I exclaimed. “I thought you and Arlene were in Tufabi.” (Tufabi is on a different island from  Rabaul.)
“Your sister’s in hospital,” Michael said. “She’s very sick. She might be going to die.”
 “The doctor sent her here as a medical emergency” – “life-threatening infection” – “she was green” – Michael’s voice hurried on, blurting out Arlene’s symptoms anxiously.

All through those terrible words and the quick explanation following, I remained bathed in that supernatural peace. For a moment my mind swam with horror, but I felt no fear - only normal concern.

“I’ll pick you up in ten minutes,” Michael said and drove off.

I hurried to my room and sank to my knees. “Father, is she going to – die?” I asked.

The peace grew stronger. A gentle presence like a fine silk shawl rested over me.
Clear, quiet words filled my mind. 
She will not die. 

Relief flooded me.
Quickly I packed a few things she might need. I was ready when Michael arrived back. 
We drove quickly through beautiful Rabaul.


   Rabaul - pic Rose Glanville








The hospital ward seemed strangely dim. 
Was it really poorly lit – or was it ‘dimmed out’ by my emotions? I’ll never know.
Arlene lay there, her face a yellow-green colour against the white pillow case. Dark-skinned nurses slipped silently around her, adjusting her drip, her sheets.

I talked to her and prayed for her, then left quietly. All the time, I felt a strong Presence holding me up, and that amazing peace sustaining me.

With good medical help Arlene gradually recovered and after a week or two was back in Tufabi.



I have always been thankful for that supernatural peace that enabled me to do all I had to during that time and to do it calmly, without my own fear affecting Arlene. And that peace enabled me to pray for her with real faith.

It was a little miracle, too, that God had me there in Rabaul of all places, during Arlene’s crisis, after I’d spent a year on New Ireland.
          
                                            Rabaul from the air - Zena Grant-Thomson

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

We'll call him Jonah

Image
Last week I left us on holidays in New Zealand. This week we take a detour into my future, years later when I lived in Nambour, a delightful country town just north of Brisbane. Something felt different about that day. I hurried onto the Nambour railway platform, wondering what was important about this particular journey to Brisbane. I travelled down regularly to visit my mother with Alzheimer’s disease but this day I’d felt a clear whisper from God to pray for my train trip. There were quite a few people waiting on the platform but there was space at the end of a seat with a youngish man seated at the other end, so I sat there. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?” the man asked. Do I ever go anywhere without a pen? I handed him my biro and he proceeded to write some notes. A whirring whine announced the arrival of the train. The man, who introduced himself – we’ll call him Joe, as I tend to think of him as Jonah – said, “Oh, I’m not finished with your
Read more

The Silver Lining: Is there any way we can keep it?

Image
The pandemic and the shutdown A strange silence broods over the land. It is early April 2020 and Australia is in the middle of the coronavirus pandemic. Attempting to halt the movement of the virus, the government has placed severe restrictions on everyone. Night after night, television brings news of more severe restrictions. Even families can no longer get together. Anything to protect us ‘oldies’. Shopping must be done alone, for necessities only, and we must keep one point five metres between us and the next shopper. And this is after the initial panic buying, when frightened shoppers grabbed armfuls of all necessities. Toilet paper ran out in most stores! Fear is etched on people’s faces. The news each night tells of multitudes of deaths in various countries, statistics growing nightly. Health workers are catching the virus as they help the sick. Some die. Businesses fold as restrictions have forbidden shoppers, tourists and others, so alarming numbers are out of work, with
Read more

June - Time to Celebrate

Image
  WooHoo! Celebration time. June marks fifty years since, after a series of undeniable ‘God incidents’, I said ‘Yes’ and became a Christian. I was twenty-five.   I’m amazed to find myself so old and so Christian. It’s all happened very fast – well, so it feels.   If you’d seen me fifty- one years ago, before I became a Christian, you would never have dreamt it. I was the girl least likely to become a Christian. In fact, one friend said, ‘If Jeanette becomes a Christian, I’ll believe it all.’ She figured she was safe as an unbeliever. Hah!     Early Hints There were hints during my childhood and teenage years. Chinks in the solid wall that kept me focussed on the material world, rarely dreaming there was anything more. One such chink occurred when I was fourteen.        A Chink It was a hot Brisbane summer day. A skinny fourteen year old, I sat on the verandah of our lovely old Queenslander, my legs stretched out over the weather-beaten floor boards. I gazed at
Read more