|
Thursday 12 August 2004
The journey from Mt Isa to Normanton was going to be long. We decided to break the trip in the middle at a tiny pit stop, the Burke & Wills Roadhouse. Which is a caravan park combined with a pub (naturally). We ate dinner outside with the people camped next door. We talked about...
life and Rob told them what we’re doing out here. "My wife sings" he says in a low key manner.
Soon the park/pub owner came over to invite us to the bar for some fund raiser entertainment for the "Make A Wish Foundation". She commented "..and if anyone here juggles or sings, we'd love you to contribute". Well we all sat tight and didn't say "boo". But our new neighbours proudly pointed at me and announced "she sings". I wanted to shrink into the chair, but it was too late, she got hold of the idea and wanted me to contribute something.. ANYTHING! We gathered an hour later in the roadhouse bar along with the usual bunch of "grey nomads" (retirees in caravans).
The entertainment started with the donation tin going round. The band of indigenous fellows cruised through a few songs, the clown juggled knives and our neighbour and the roadhouse owner made a fuss about me singing. I was reluctant, still Rob went to the truck and got the music to “Touch of the Master’s Hand”. I sat quietly for the next 10 minutes hoping to be overlooked and prayed “Lord if you want me to sing you'll have to make it obvious within the next 40 seconds or I'm putting the kids to bed". No sooner had my prayer finished then the keyboardist stopped playing and announced, “I believe we have a guest singer with us tonight”.
“Excellent” I thought, wiping the sweat from my brow. "I'm off the hook. Now who is this person rescuing me" I looked around for this mystery person to find every “grey nomad” staring at me. Whoops!
I got up reluctantly, murmuring something under my breathe to God.. "you only just scraped that in... I hope you know what you're doing". My "faithful" husband had already snuck off to Ivy truck to get the backing CD for “Touch of the Masters Hand”. I started to sing and prayed for favour with this group of unsuspecting travellers, bar patrons and staff. They listened intently to the story and a hush swept through every room, including the kitchen. The presence of God settled like a blanket as bar, kitchen staff and even the serious drinkers outside on the verandas stopped their conversations to stick their heads inside the doors and windows. A “spiritual stillness” descended as the message of God’s unconditional and transforming love took centre stage in an unlikely place at an appointed moment. |
About