Saved by my Father (Abducted by Dad Part 2/2)

Dedicated to my Dad, who considered us worth saving, and in doing so preserved a remnant of our self-worth

Then I saw dad. My dad. 

Running towards us, his dear face ashen and grief stricken, perspiration damp on his temples, he threw his arms around us.
“Dad?  WHAT’S HAPPENING!”, Emma reliably vocal. “I’ll explain in the car” dad said with desperation. We learnt later that Mr Marsh had left us in the taxi and driven all the way to the golf club to ask dad what to do about us not wanting to enter school, which had delayed Dad by an hour, hence the rush!

Into another car, dad throwing it into reverse, we backed out then sped away from the golf club.

“We’re going to New Zealand”.  A thrill, clouded by uncertainty.  Why? We used to live in New Zealand, next to normal neighbours who had barbecues and BMX bikes and so on. Oh, YES, let’s go back there!  Where I can have REAL milk (not powdered) and mostly, so we can get out of this hell-hole of an existence in Solomon Islands, where our lives seem to have taken such a downward spiral. 

There was more, we would be coming back to Solomons, once mum had been given her tickets and had gone back to Kiribati.  Once the coast was clear.  But… WHY

Dad explained to us in simple terms that mum had been unfaithful and that he (and we), were leaving, for good.  He announced it as though we had no clue.  And, in most ways, we didn’t “know”, not technical details anyway, of what he really meant.  But ohh, we knew.

For nearly 18 months mum and one or both of us had been out late every night, taken from place to place.  At best we were left in the car or outside somewhere, in remote places, places with gangs of young men roaming, remote, terrifying places, private beaches, lonely mountainous areas with howling winds, valleys so deeply dark, rivers edges, bush.  And all characterised by confusion and so much violence.   A variety of twisted, evil, violent and oppressive scenarios, all set in the lush tropical paradise of Guadalcanal.  We witnessed our Mum’s demise, her increasing volatility as the depth of depravity took its toll on her soul and mental health.  She was no longer present. 

“For where… strife is, there is confusion and every evil work”  ~James 3:16

Our spirits are grieved when we keep doing the wrong thing and hers was no exception.

Dear Mum was a shadow of who she should’ve been, driven on mercilessly by her demons.  It had started before my birth but accelerated in the Solomon’s. And we, for the 18 months leading up to this, instructed and coached to lie to dad every night.  And the potential consequences of not lying to dad - life threatening.  Not an option.  

We were back to the airport, again. As we pulled in, Dad pointed out armed soldiers posted at each corner. “Uncle Peter helped sort out military-security so that your mum wouldn’t stop us if she found out”. Uncle Peter Scarlet knew everybody.  And, Wow, I thought. They really know how dangerous mum can be. I felt cramped in my spirit from fear and anxiety. Mum, oh mum.  I need you.  But I need and want these soldiers here as security slightly more, because of you.  I’m sorry mum, I’m sorry.  It’s all bad and I’m bad too.  Child, you are good.

We drove around to the side of the building. More armed security ushered us into the pilots lounge.  Stress flooding my veins. We were very soon to be personally chauffered to the aircraft, (another thing arranged by Peter Scarlet) which would fly us to New Zealand, via one night in Brisbane.

The pilot’s lounge - a breezy room, a high ceiling, a fan lazily spinning, a chilled orange juice, and comfortable cane furniture.  And… a walk towards release.

Hesitantly, we relayed one experience.  And how Dad stared, aghast.  We were immediately gripped with fear, “will mum find out we have told you?”

“No!”  I had never seen Dad so resolute. 

We continued… “and that time we got home and we said this, well this is what had really happened”… Once again, seized with fear.  “mum, will get us”.  And once again, reassured by Dad.  YOU. ARE. SAFE. NOW.  Could it be true?  We sensed a commanding light penetrate the darkness as evil presences scurried away.

We began to spill out every secret.  Emma and I began talking over the top of each other as we moved into this new foreign space of safety.  And Dad was grieved.  I’m so sorry, girls.  I had no idea these things could happen, that they were happening to you my daughters.

Freedom introduced itself to our lives at that moment.  The dark ominous clouds moved aside in that pilot’s lounge.    The journey to healing wasn’t over, but thank God, it had begun.

Mum also experienced a day of coming into the light, this was her jolting day of re-alignment.  She paid a hefty price and she never forgot it til the day she died.  I will always have compassion on my mum.  And I am FOREVER GLAD she was my mum.  

In this moment, I thank my Dad.  Yes his sheltered life meant he couldn’t fathom that such far-fetched events could be possible.  He was passive at times when we needed him to stand up, to see.  He was trusting – but that is a good way to be, indeed the right way to be when entering marriage.

But when he was confronted and challenged by a friend, (we owe Uncle Peter a lot come to think of it?"!), he moved.  He had backbone when it counted.

~

This has been difficult to write… and I’ve had voices whisper accusations. Let me re-affirm that I love my mother, forgave her and removed my judgement long ago.

Why did I write this…

In many ways, trauma mentioned here and in other events earlier than this time, still impacts my life today, for sure.  But I give it to God and I see Jesus there in those scenes, beside me.  I know his hand of protection and purpose was on my life, and yours.  And I know he can be trusted when he says “God uses all things together for the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to his purposes” If you have experienced trauma, yes it shapes you.  And yes it has the potential to lead you down a dark road.  Or not.

I want to reinforce the power of truthfulness, in every way. I want to acknowledge that my dad taking a stand spoke volumes to us - do the right thing.

I also want to acknowledge his bravery in daring to leave an abusive and dysfunctional situation, removing and rescuing us from it in the process. I know it wasn’t easy for him, and whilst we were suffering and more pain was to come, the new pain was temporary. It has been proven to me that there is always hope and I/you, will be ok.

I also wish to strongly emphasise that children, (and adults) need to have truth actively spoken into their spirits to be inoculated from those flaming arrows the enemy sends our way.  I believe the devil is real and as the bible says, is “a liar, and the father of all lies” – the origin of every debilitating lie sown in our lives. eg. “I’m ugly”, “I’m worthless”, “I’ll never get it right”, “I’m not lovable/likeable”, “I’m just bad” “it’s my fault”

Another way truth and light permeates and in this case multiplied it’s goodness: although this tsunami, this, mum’s day of reckoning, had arrived; this was also the beginning of mum’s journey to recovery.  Dad’s actions shattered mum’s fragile reality and heaved her from her highway to hell onto the path of rehabilitation.  Yes she splattered on that new road, but it altered her trajectory which she hadn’t been capable of doing thus far. It wasn’t necessarily Dad’s intention – he was walking away.  But inadvertently, mum was never, ever the same again.  And she has Dad decision and God’s will to thank for that, that’s the power of coming into the light.

My mum is in heaven, despite her sins, and I am heading there, despite mine.

“…because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in our trespasses. It is by grace you have been saved! Ephesians 2:4-5

All in all: I want to express GRATITUDE for both my parents and all my experiences -

Dad, when you read this, thank you for your courage xx