“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...