About 6 weeks ago (before I was admitted to the Ballarat Health Services clinic as an involuntary patient), the Spirit of Truth brought me a memory of Tolkien's poem "The Last Ship." I'll quote from it below and try briefly to explain what it meant for me. The comments in the square brackets are mine:
"...wither go ye, boatmen fair,
down the river gliding?
To twilight and to secret lair
in the great forest hiding?
To Northern isles and shores of stone
on strong swans flying,
by cold waves to dwell alone
with the white gulls crying?"
"Nay!" they answered, "Far away
on the last road faring,
leaving western havens grey,
the seas of shadow daring,
we go back to Elvenhome, [this is the spiritual equivalent to Christ's kingdom in heaven]
where the white tree is growing,
and the Star shines upon the foam
on the last shore flowing.
"To mortal fields say farewell,
Middle-earth forsaking!
In Elvenhome a clear bell
In the high tower is shaking.
Here grass fades and leaves fall
and sun and moon wither, [ie. death and evil are here on earth]
and we have heard the far call
that bids us journey thither." [...to the Kingdom of God]
The oars were stayed. They turned aside:
"Do you hear the call, Earth-maiden?
Firiel! Firiel!" They cried.
"Our ship is not full laden.
One more only we may bear.
Come! For your days are speeding.
Come! Earth-maiden elven fair,
Our last call heeding."
Firiel looked from the river bank,
one step daring;
then deep in clay her feet sank,
and she halted staring. [Fear. Earth is all she knows, forgetting the spiritual side to life.]
Slowly the elven-ship went by
whispering through the water:
"I cannot come!" they heard her cry.
"I was born Earth's daughter!" [But all of us can be spiritual children of God...]
When I read the Gospel several months ago, it was the second time I was moved by it. But the experience was different to the first time. The words had a "light" around them (this is difficult to explain) and they got to my conscience. I realized that I had not honoured my father at all during my lifetime (and, in particular, since my mother died) and that the character of Jesus was nothing like the characters of people I had previously admired (such as the author of the website "Narcissists Suck"). They were proud, forthright, cruelly honest, unforgiving and self-righteous. He was gentle, humble, patient and kind to all people (though also truthful to all people) - narcissists included.
I realised something was terribly wrong with the direction my life was taking and that things had to change. I also compared the gentle light I was now seeing emanate from the Gospels with the strong, fear-based reaction I'd had to them in 2004 (which resulted in a temporary, fear-based conversion to Christianity). It seemed to me that this might indeed be Jesus' last call to me, spiritually, before my conscience became so deadened (through selfish, unloving actions on my part) that I could no longer hear Him. It was now or never to listen to Him and act, as best I might, to what He was saying so that my character would improve itself and look more like His than a monster's.
So, without reading the rest of the New Testament (which would have explained to me that the role of believing Gentile women is not necessarily to forsake everything in the world before turning to Christ), I acted.
I obeyed Christ's call to forsake everything (ie. house, job, husband, all worldly attachments) in order to follow Him and be His disciple. And I tried to sincerely repent for my terrible treatment of my earthly father by being honest before God about my sins (which I wrote down), then seeking to visit Dad to be with him on Mum's birthday.
Needless to say, the above looks pretty strange to anyone who is not interested in following God, or in spiritual things. My actions were not interpreted as being due to personal choice (which they were) but as mental illness. So I was committed to a mental health centre for nearly two weeks as an involuntary patient and told that I was "psychotic" and had "paranoid ideas." No, I just had real faith in God and I didn't want to just believe Him and do nothing as that is no basis for a sincere, ongoing relationship. I tried to bring Him "fruits meet for repentance" to show I really meant what I was saying (Matthew 3:8).
So I acted on His words and decided to "walk a mile in His shoes" (this was later on, after it became apparent that Dad was not at home in Ararat) by seeing what it would have been like for Him to have nowhere on earth to lay His head (as per Luke 9:58). My impulse in doing the latter was similar to the impulse that must have moved some CEO's recently, where they spent a night sleeping homeless on the streets to understand from the heart what it is like to be poor.
I was so hard-hearted that I knew the only way I could understand (in some small way) how God felt when He came to earth to love us and no-one loved or recognized Him was to "walk a mile in His shoes." So I went into the heart of my home town, at night, and spent some time apart from my earthly father (as Jesus also spent time on earth away from His heavenly Father), with no-one to make me welcome. I wanted to try and honour Him, and the first step towards doing that was to understand who He was as a Person.
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