Paradise_Road

“It is our Paradise Road, how silent is this place, how sacred is this place...” I liked watching this scene in my life. I know, it seems horrid to recall the funeral of an innocent woman, but this, this was the moment I realised He was with me, as long as I allowed Him to be. I watched over them; Susan, Adrienne, Rosemary, Doctor Verstak. I watched them as they found their way through their own Paradise Road. I can remember watching my own funeral. The simple yet complex world that was the one I called reality, was now my past. It was like a surreal dream, or figment of my imagination. I can remember the sounds of the air raiders attacking us as we were fleeing Singapore. I was on deck, telling the children a story I’d learnt along my travels; one of Hera and Hercules. The sound as they fired their bombs was one I would never forget. After floating in the water a while, we washed ashore onto the island of Sumatra. This would become my physical prison for the next two years. Psychologically, I was used to being in the same place for years with complete and utter strangers. I’d been sent from one side of the world to another. I taught children the words of God, as well as the words of English. He was my hero throughout the ordeal. He did save me from my own poisonous thoughts. After being at the camp for no more than a month, I witnessed a woman being burnt alive. This was the first and only time I have ever questioned my relationship with God. It wasn’t the idea that He had let her be burnt alive, but how could He allow such monstrosities to occur to innocent women and children' Was He really watching over us' Did He hear my prayers' What sort of ‘benevolent’ God, did this to His people' I soon realised the answers to my questions. He didn’t allow it to happen; he had no control over our actions. Only we did. We control our thoughts, actions, values, morals and beliefs. He wasn’t watching over me, because I didn’t need supervision. None of us did. We just needed direction. It was at that moment I refused to question the one thing I had known all my life, because it was at that moment I realised we were travelling our own Paradise Road. I felt closer to Him. I felt our relationship rearranging itself as I passed through the doubts of my own mind. Over the next two years, my relationship with God was constantly tested; or so it felt. I witnessed the cruel, undying nationalism that the Japanese held, and watched them use it as a catalyst to beat and imprison anyone who was European, or even appeared it. I learnt a lot about my faith, it had been so easy to teach people His words, but never had I truly endorsed them. It would be wrong to say I blamed everything or nothing on Him, because to some degree, I did. I didn’t hold Him accountable for my situation, or the situation at large. I began to talk to Him more, irrespective of whether or not He could hear me; I spoke to Him about the women, about the thoughts I had in my mind, about how wrong we, as humans had done things. I distinctly remember telling Him of a conversation I had overheard, women saying that He was no longer with us, because He would never have let this happen. And piece by piece I strengthened the relationship we held; by turning to Him.