My story in detail

1/ From my mothers account my birth was a trauma to her as well as me. It was an extremely difficult time for mom and as I refused to be born, the doctor was forced to grab me by the head with forceps, and literally drag me out. Even today I have the swollen points on both sides of my head that are a reminder to me of such. The skull healed in the swollen state just like a broken bone will heal with a lump at the break, if not correctly set. According to my mother, as a toddler I was strange. I would run and hide whenever a visitor would come to our house.

2/ The second calamity occurred six months after birth, where I developed severe pneumonia. The doctors in those days held little hope, and told mom to take me home and hope for the best. Apparently my mom going by grandma's advice put me in a room with a open fire and boiled water in kettles to make steam, and my grandmother put what is called a 'hot poultice pack' on my little chest in order/hope to draw all the poison from my lungs out through my chest. It was this that I believe saved me, although to this day I still have a small chest whereas all my family have huge chests. Anyway, small chest or not...I lived.

3/ Not long after recovering from pneumonia as a toddler, maybe twelve months old, somehow I managed to climb from the floor to the chair, and the chair to the kitchen bench where I found my mothers bottle of tablets which to me were lollies ( candy ). As my mother walked in and caught me, I was downing the last of them. The amount of these tablets I had taken was enough to kill an adult let alone a toddler. Well mom knew there was no time to get me to the doctor as I would be dead within minutes, so she laid me on her knee on my back and forced a whole lot of cooking salt down my throat that caused me to vomit until there was nothing left in my stomach. It saved my life. Now if mom had entered the room much later, she would have found me back on the floor either asleep, screaming my head off, or dead...either way, by the time she figured out her tablets were gone, it would have been to late. Believe it or not, but I can still remember that trauma of being on my back vomiting salt. It was a nasty and life threatening experience...but I lived.

4/ Next was an amazing piece of work by my Father in heaven. I was only about three or four years old, and together with an older cousin, had climbed a tree. Well when it was time to come down...I could not manage it without falling. I fell head first for about six meters directly onto a stake (broken sapling) protruding out of the ground. Now if you feel above your own eye about half an inch, you will find the peak bone of your eyebrow. One side of that bone is your forehead, and the other side is your eye. Well it was on the exact POINT that this stake struck. That stake could have gone either way, but it decided to go to my forehead side. Had it gone the other way...I would not be writing this story now. It was a hairs breath between life and death. Thank You God of Abraham. Now it did make a mess of my head...but I lived

5/ Not long after this, it was time for my first day at school. I was terrified and can still remember that day almost fifty years later. That in itself was a calamity, but the worst was yet to come. When the bus stopped to let me off at my house, I was so excited to get to mom and away from that school, that I ran out from behind the bus and was wiped out by a car. In a coma, my parents lost all hope, but God pulled me out of that coma. It was from this time on that I also came out of my shell so to speak, and mom said it was the best thing that happened to me as I wasn't strange anymore. She said it knocked some sense into me. Anyway, I may have had many injuries...but I lived.

6/ Another four years passed without a hitch really until my dad bought me this crazy pony. As I rode this pony down the track gently all went well until we reached the main bitumen road. Well this pony decided once on the road, to bolt. Maybe it was the sound of the metal shoes on the road...I don't know, but it was uncontrollable. As we approached a tight bend in the road we came face to face with a semi trailer bearing down. The pony shied to the right, the semi ran off the road, and I was left in mid air travelling at approximately 35 mph. As my body impacted the road in a belly down position, my shirt was ripped off along with most of the flesh on my chest. That semi should of collected me head on, but it didn't. The semi driver survived, the pony survived, and although I was messed up a bit...I lived.

7/ When I was about 14 or 15yold, I was body surfing on a beach in SE Australia called the Ninety Mile Beach near Lakes Entrance. When I started, the undertow current was mild, but as time went by and the tide turned, I found myself in an extreme predicament. Each time I got close enough to touch the shore with my tip toes, the undertow current would drag me back out again. Within about one hour of back and forth, I was taking in sea water and loosing my strength as slight panic set in. I was going under for about the last time I recon, when a young fella on a surf board seemed to come from nowhere and rescued me. Now as this is a truth site in the presence of God, I have to say I am not totally sure of all the story...somehow I have difficulty remembering it all, and why I don't know. But anyway, I was as full of sea water ...but I lived.

8/ About the same age as above, I was riding my push bike down the road where I lived at the time. As it wound down the hillside, on the right side was a steep cliff, and it happened where all the rubbish and broken glass from bottles were tipped over the edge as a tip refuse. I lost control of the bike in loose gravel and went flying over the edge of the cliff and landed in all the rubbish and glass. As I remember there was much blood and deep gashes. Had I went over before or after the rubbish, things might have been different. Maybe paralysed maybe dead, who knows, but although I was pretty messed up...I lived.

9/ Now I am 18yo. Just got my drivers licence and couldn't wait to take a mate and go on a long drive. At 2am in the middle of the night after about four hours driving, I fell asleep at the wheel doing 70 mph. I remember waking to my mate screaming and seeing the rear of another car about 20 feet in front of us. The problem was this car in front was doing about 40mph, and we were doing 80mph, so we were about to rear end him real good. Somehow we missed and all I can remember is all the dust and noise, and seeing white posts flying everywhere off the front of the car. The car first broad sided, then went into a spin but never rolled. We both walked away without a scratch. A mere miracle ...we both lived.

Now did I say nine lives? Well that was as a boy. Now lets see what happens after becoming a man from the age of 21yo to being born again at 35yo.

10/ My dad trained race horses and I would ride them track work. One early morning after galloping a gelding over 1600 meters, I was cantering him back to the stables when, in a total relaxed mode, he stumbled and went head over heals. When the dust settled I found myself between the horses back legs as he was laying on his side. A very strange thing happened. Normally a horse will get to his feet immediately when this sort of thing happens, and also if you were in the position I was in you would expect the horse to kick you to death. As it was, this gelding just lay there with me between his back legs. I couldn't believe it. I simply lifted his leg and rolled out, and when I was clear this horse calmly stood up. Amazing to say the least when you know horses the way I do. Both horse and rider escaped without injury. I was about 21 years old then.

11/ Another time not long after that, I was actually riding in a race at Pakenham in a field of 14 horses. My mount jumped and went to the lead and within about a furlong, a horse cut across from the outside right in front and too close to me. My mount clipped the heels of that horse and fell. The rest of the field galloped over me (12 horses). Normally when this happens, it's either a fatality or close to it. Many have been paralysed or killed. I can still see the look on the faces of my first wife and spectators as the ambulance opened the back doors. They thought I would be dead. I got away with a busted finger and a few bruises is all....and lived.

12/ Over the next few years I was beaten up three times, but one in particular by three men. All memory is gone, so all we can go on is what bystanders witnessed. One large man held me by the arms from behind, while another messed up my face pretty bad( a bit like in the movies...hehe). When I was unconscious they threw me against a brick wall where my head made impact and then fell to the concrete where my head bounced a few more times. As help arrived they were still kicking at my head. As I don't remember any of it, I cant recall any pain, but I tell you it sure hurt for the next couple months while healing. Fractured jaw, broken nose, badly split lip and a very sore head. Really it should have nearly killed me considering the battering my head has had over the years, but ...but I lived.

There was another cowardly act by my own brother that I can't bring myself to speak of, but much the same as this one. Maybe to his disappointment I lived through that also.

13/ About age 23 just 6 months after getting married and receiving a pay rise, I was driving the 30 kilometres home from work happy as Larry when a railway crossing that I had crossed many times before was before me. As I was singing away to myself thinking of what we could do with the extra cash and not concentrating on driving, I heard this loud toot of the train. Dumbfounded I immediately applied the breaks and skidded to a stop, feeling sure the train would collect me. The noise of the train clattering on the tracks was deafening as I sat shaking all over, and then dead silence. Still shaking like a leaf I inspected the front of the car only to see no damage, but how could this be true? Was I dreaming? The bumper was no more than 12 inches from the track and the train never touched me. At the time I thought I was just lucky, but in hindsight blessed would have been a better word. Escape by a hairs breath. Yet another life was given me.

14/ Within the next 5 years I was involved in two head on car smashes, making the front page of the Melbourne Herald Sun newspaper ( #1 in Melbourne) in the later one. Both cars written off, both occupants of other car taken away in critical condition unconscious, a bystander run over and suffered broken bones, and me with arm and back damage. A bit sore for awhile but ... I lived.

15/ One day while working on a roof, I crawled up onto a concrete parapet to fit a cowl on a chimney. As I was halfway standing up a stranger who had been watching me from a distance screamed his lungs out for me to get down. So I did, and guess what was waiting for me if I had of been completely erect on the parapet? High voltage electric wires that were not seen by me. Yes I would have been fried had I stood all the way up. If that stranger had not been there watching me, death would have been imminent ... but I walked away and lived.

16/ In 1987, I went to have my first parachute jump. After eight hours of study and practice on the ground, we were taken up to 3000 feet and jumped out. I was the last to jump. At about 1000 feet I noticed I was drifting further away from the target, so I adjusted the toggles for full forward speed. Still I drifted further away. As I touched down about a mile away from target, the wind took hold of the chute and carried me backwards at what seemed at least 60mph, before I was able to real it in. It was only then that I realised I was caught in a microburst. It was terrifying. After being carted for about half a mile on my back, and watching my clothes skin being torn off by the ground, I felt my time was up. Suddenly, for some unknown reason, I turned and looked behind me and saw a barbed wire fence approaching at break neck speed. In a split second I was able to think what would normally take at least 10 seconds. In that mere second I was able to figure out that if I flatten my body and keep my head hard against the ground, then the chute would go over the fence while I would go under. And that's exactly what happened. I was literally caught by the fence. I later heard the winds reached 70knts, which is about 90 mph. I was torn from shoulder to foot, but I lived.

17/ Although this next event resulted in no injury, I know in my heart it could very easily meant death. I was flying a small plane over a remote mountain range four thousand feet high, with no landing available below. At the pinnacle of the range, one of only two spark plugs fowled and I lost 80% of power. But because of my height and the fact I had reached the lee side of the mountain, I had 5000 feet in height left in which to glide. It turned out just enough to reach a country landing strip about 7 miles away. If the engine had of died 2 minutes earlier then I would of only had about 500 feet to play with before crashing into the forest on the side of a mountain. It would almost certainly meat death. A very fortunate escape indeed.

18/ Three years ago (I was 52 years old), I was doing a roof job for and old lady in my home town. It had just began to rain, so I quickly closed the roof and headed for the ladder. As I climbed aboard the top of the ladder, the bottom slipped on the wet cement path and fell from under me. The old lady screamed as she watched me fall15 feet to the pavement. As it was, I landed flat on my back on top of the ladder. I was stunned and scared to move for fear of spinal injuries but felt no pain. I just lay there for a minute while I slowly tested my reflexes. The old lady was crying as she was sure I was badly injured. Finally I got to my feet totally amazed at not even so much as a tiny scratch. Nothing...not injury, no pain...100% whole. Normally when these things happen, the next day one feels the bruising and pain, but again, nothing...a miracle I believe. I survived.

As well as all the above, I also recall two operations I had. I include these because I think that anyone who goes under the knife in any way while out to it, still takes a chance if not a minor one, to encounter complications that can cause death. The first was when I was about four years old, Mom for some strange reason decided to walk me to hospital about 6 kilometers, have all my top and bottom back teeth removed, and then bring me back home in a taxi...all in the one day. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Vomiting violently in the back seat of the taxi on the way home. This was an extremely traumatic experience for me then, and I still shudder at the thought. Till this day I still don't know why Mom did that. She wont talk about it, but I sense it was to save money from regular trips to the dentist. That's ok if it was, because Mom was very poor and worked hard to fill our bellies back then. The second was at eight years old when I had my tonsils removed. Although I was out to it and never felt any pain...the pursuing weeks were the worst of my life as I could not bare to swallow water let alone even the smoothest of foods. I think out of all the terrible pain I have suffered, I would say this is way up there with the kidney stone.

There are many more minor escapes left out here, like electric shocks, water accidents, car accidents, and being beaten up by the wife he he, but I hope you have gotten the point of my story, that obviously a hidden force played a part in them all. Back then I thought it was just the luck of the Irish, but in hindsight I changed my views now. What do you think? All the above is as true as I can remember.

Testimony

My conversion.

For as long as I can remember, I have been evil. Yes I hear you say...we are all evil, but I mean "really" evil. More than anyone else I know. My first marriage of thirteen years was chock a block with evil. Alcohol, sex, light drugs and violence. Looking back I find it hard to stomach what I did. Eventually the law caught up with me and it tore me and my family apart. I was left alone and broken, fretting to be back with my family. Life was now over for me now as I knew I deserved every bit of my punishment for my crimes. I was reduced to a bawling and babbling fool who had nowhere to go, so after many more lonely nights and days of boozing I made up my mind to do away with this excuse for a man.

I needed to do it properly though, not like these gunnado's who are just looking for somebody to stop them halfway. I had made up my mind to do it right, so I planned (as much as I could in my drunken stupor) every detail, even to the point of being baptised by a priest first, so I would not end up in purgatory as I was falsely told by my ex-wife. I called into a random church and was met out the front by a pastor who asked what was bothering me. I told him all I want is to be baptised and I would pay him to do it. At this point you must realise I didn't know the first thing about God or baptism. I thought a sprinkle of water and a few words from his bible and that would be it...done! Well this pastor guy explained a few things that in short said "no way jack", but he gave me a small book of about 20 pages to read which told of an American bikie gang leader who gave his life to Jesus. So without any other option, I took it and went home.

When I got home I was greeted by me ex-wife's brother, a big guy he was and all he was interested in was giving me a beating for all the trauma I had caused his sister, and all the beatings I had apparently given her (She hated me so much she lied to him about these beatings). As it turned out he was in trouble with the law also, so I told him he will get his chance in jail if we ever meet again, but for now he had better get out before I call the cops. To my surprise he did.

By now I was trembling with either fear or for the need of a drink...I'm not sure, maybe both, but I hit the bottle again anyway. By about 2am I had drunken myself into a self-pity stupor, and was ready to finish it all. The time was ripe for it. I had nobody left. I was too ashamed to front any of my family, I had lost my immediate family for good, and I hated myself to the point where I did not deserve to live. The grog had given me the courage and the over exaggerated self pity to accomplish my aim, especially considering a few hours earlier my ex-wife had phoned me and suggested I should commit suicide.

As I stood up and made my way to the balcony door where I intended to climb onto the roof and jump head first onto the pavement below, something drew my attention to God. I had still not read this small book that the pastor had given me, and I had no intention to either at this stage, but the thought of a God did play some part in what happened next. I made a last ditch effort for help by opening the yellow pages phone book and choosing a church near my area, and calling the number. You must understand that it was 2am and by this time I could barely read my own thoughts let alone think straight, so God had indeed came to my rescue for reasons still unknown to me this very day. Anyway, the phone did answer to my surprise, and in a language barely recognisable I blurted out my case. I have no idea what I said, but I do remember the guy on the other end getting my address and telling me to sit calmly and wait for him. This I did.

Twenty minutes later and another bottle of beer, and this man pastor turns up and sits me down to listen to my story. I break down in tears of guilt and loss of hope, and was untenable to the point of complete breakdown. This man, this pastor, comforted me and insisted I stay calm, and gave me water to drink. Over a period of an hour or two he gathered enough information to get the gist of my situation, and after he had prayed for me accepted that I was calm enough to leave alone and return to his family. Before he left he invited me to attend his church the coming Sunday for service. That night I slept like a baby for the first time since the break-up. Was it the prayer he prayed?

Sometime between that night and the following Sunday, I decided to read that small booklet about the conversion of a bikie gang leader. Without going into details, the fact that this tough guy who had the power and leadership over one of the toughest gangs in down town New York ( I think), gave his life to Jesus, and the fact that this pastor was willing to risk his life to visit me (boy, I could have been a madman) at 2am in the morning, totally inspired me to take him up on his offer, and at that very moment I decided to turn up for church on Sunday. This was the best decision I have ever made...to accept the out-reaching hand of God. Could it be that He saved me from all those near death experiences for a reason? Time will tell. To Him be ALL the glory! Amen.

My first church attendance was so uncomfortable as it was all alien to me, but my mind was made up, I was in for the long haul. I mean here are people singing, praying and lifting their hands in the air...some smiling and some crying. I couldn't understand it. This just wasn't my scene and all this seemed fake to me, but my mind was made up so I toughed it out. Over a period of about six months I never missed a Sunday at church and at least once per week would attend counselling at the pastors home. It was at one of these sessions that he laid hands on my head and prayed love and mercy of Jesus on me, and all the time I felt a warm sensation in my blood, and a feeling that begs explanation. It was so hard for me to hold back tears, and for why I don't know. Maybe I was experiencing mercy...or maybe it was for the very first time in my life I felt Someone really loved me, or maybe both. Yes, it was the love of God I was feeling...an assuring love that gave me total peace, and somehow I knew it was real. A love that forgave my trespasses, a love that could see that tiny bit of good amongst all the evil in me, a love without compromise. This day sold me on Jesus.

The power of the Holy Spirit

In the above, the Holy Spirit had already demonstrated it's awesome power to me, but it did not end there. As I climbed into my old work van for the hour journey home that night, I was experiencing an extraordinary amount of joy and happiness. This should not be normal for someone who has lost all he has and about to face court and almost certain jail, but there was nothing I could do about it. The further I drove, the more happy I grew, to the point of tears of joy and in gratefulness to God for His mercy. As I approached the West Gate Bridge in Melbourne's west, I began to sing, and these are the words that came out.

I praise you Lord, I love you Lord. I love you eternally. I praise you Lord, I love you Lord. So You will walk with me.

When I was down, You came to me. When I was lost, You found me. When I was sad, You loved me. Now I will love You eternally.

Take this life I give to You, and hold it tenderly. And take this heart I give to You, so I can be with Thee.

And now I see the light above, it's shining more and more. And I have come to be with You. For now and evermore.

By the time I got to the other side of the bridge, the song was completed, music and all. All in a matter of two minutes. Many times over the following days, weeks and years I would sing this to myself. These words had the power to draw me near to God as I would feel so grateful to Him for His mercy and grace. Who am I that He should show such great mercy? One who spent much of his time mocking and teasing His people. To this day, twenty years later, these words still have power over me. Some friends even sang it at my water baptism.

As my life before had been consumed in all sorts of evil deeds, there were a huge amount of habits and tendances that would need to be tamed, and much of these vanished instantly through the power of the Holy Spirit, but there were some deep stains that would linger on like alcohol for instance. That took a little longer to deal with, but thanks to the power of God, it's power over me was soon destroyed. The most amazing thing was that without even trying, I found myself not swearing anymore. This was indeed amazing because swearing was part of my language for thirty years which was deeply rooted, and to suddenly realize it had left my vocabulary absolutely astounded me. Praise be to God.

Miracles

Although the Holy Spirit is a promise, to me it's power over me was indeed a miracle in itself, so that was my first experience of God's miraculous power.
The second was my court case. Now if anyone deserved to go to jail it was definitely me...just trust me on this one. My lawyer had told me to prepare things on the outside, because I should plan for five plus years on the inside, but was hoping for as low as three years if he could get a certain judge on the day. My prayer to God was for His will to prevail and that only truth would come out in court. Although I was certainly guilty, there were some trying to make it look much worse, so if only the truth was available, I would expect a lighter sentence. I also explained to God that if I went to jail, He would not be blamed, but instead I would endeavour to speak of Him while in there. Little to my knowledge at that time, there were many praying for me because they had since witnessed the spirit of Christ in me, and this would have played a huge part in what was to happen next. After one and a half days in court, and one night in the lock up, it was now time for the judges verdict. All the time while in there, I was in a guarded partition so far away from the action that I could not hear well, so I have no idea what was said. Even when I was being addressed by the Judge, sometimes I could not hear him, and had to be prompted by the guard to reply. Finally I was taken to the witness box which was close by the judge and what I heard him say was shear bliss. A suspended sentence was given by the judge probably because of my remorse and repentance caused by my conversion to Christ. For whatever reason the judge had mercy I will never know, but I really believe God was in charge of the situation, and it was HIS mercy that prevailed in the end.
Eighteen months after my conversion I decided to learn to fly in the hope of joining the Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF) and flying in the remote regions of the world in the service of God. As it turned out later they didn't want me because I was too old(37), but I never knew that at the beginning. It happened that the time came to do my final flight test which was a four hour navigational flight over about five hundred miles, of which was to be quite a challenge for one who had never sat in a plane until six months prior. In the morning of the test I prayed God to give me victory and then met the flight tester at the airport for the exercise. I was extremely nervous and it showed I recon. Soon after take off at about 2000 feet he asked me to climb above cloud for smoother air and thinking it was a test of decision making I bluntly refused because the cloud cover was too great. He acknowledged my good decision, and the ordered me to go above the cloud anyway because it was uncomfortable in the rough air between the mountains and the cloud. Soon after the cloud cover increased even more to the point where finally there were only pinholes to see the ground beneath in order to get a navigational fix. Eventually I had no clue where I was and was about to chuck in the towel when suddenly I remembered my prayer of victory and decided to stand on it. The flight tester asked me if I knew where I was and I was within a second of telling him "no" when all of a sudden a small hole in the cloud appeared, and you would never imagine what I saw through this tiny hole...my very own brothers house in the country about eighty miles north east from where we took off. Still in shock, and trying real hard not to let on about the house, I calmly answered " oh yeah mate, no problem". Of course I knew very well that the road outside my brothers house (Melba hwy) lead right to the first port of call on the nav exercise, and even though I was about 20 miles off course I was able to dead recon my target and finish up right over the top. After giving my "over the top Yea call" to Melbourne tower, and fixing my new heading for Bendigo, my bewildered passenger said " hey Mike, forget Bendigo, I don't know how you managed to get to Yea without getting lost, because I had no idea where we were, so head home matey, you got your license. Later I was to find out there were 1000 people from the Richmond Temple in Melbourne praying I would be successful. It is no wonder that God in His mercy decided to open up the clouds for a brief moment just long enough to see my brothers house beneath, so that I could find my way. Finding myself lost over the top of my brothers house was a miracle in itself, but to see the clouds open at precisely the same time in order to see it was undoubtedly a miracle from the very hand of God. Why should I be so fortunate to have God do this for me? Firstly because I made a second conscious decision to stand on my prayer, and secondly the fact God saw 1000 brethren praying also.
It was 1997-8 when I was doing a work related stint in Tasmania installing gas central heating. While using an angle grinder cutting stone, a piece shot out the back and lodged in my eye. I was all alone and in extreme pain. I knew at once it was severe by the pain and amount of water/tears pouring out, so I quickly jumped in the van and headed off to the doctor about 5 kilometers through traffic. As the pain and tears grew worse I prayed to my Father to heal me. I pleaded for Him to take the piece of stone away from my eye, but there was absolutely no relief. The disappointment was overwhelming and the pain grew worse. I could only imagine the damage to my eye. Finally I arrived at the last set of traffic lights where I am about to turn right and enter the surgery. I remembered the time in the airplane several years earlier and at the last second as the lights turned green, I decided to go straight ahead toward home instead of turning into the doctors surgery, and stand firm on my earlier prayer. It was almost instant, the moment the car was clear of the intersection on the other side...the pain and tears stopped as a tap is turned off. I was full of joy indescribably. Not so much for the pain and tears disappearing, but the fact I knew clearly that it was a miracle from my Father. As my body warmed with excitement, I realized God had tested my faith before He healed me...waiting until I made the final decision to not enter the surgery. I bolted home and immediately rang my wife who was in Melbourne at the time, just to tell her about the miracle that God had made for me.
One day in the vegetable garden during the summer of 2000 I was picking tomatoes off the plant when as I reached down to pick one close to the ground, my dog Bonnie suddenly lunged forward in one mighty leap and grabbed a tiger snake about six inches behind the head and shook it violently and then let it go. While it was still half dazed I was able to kill it with the garden spade and prevent my dear Bonnie from danger of being bitten. This was amazing...I mean Bonnie is not normally in the veggie garden because the wife wont let her, but this day she was put there by God to save me from that snake. Tiger snakes have pretty potent venom here in Australia, and without immediate attention you can die from their bite. The fact that God saved me from severe sickness or death through my dear dog Bonnie from the tiger snake, is reason enough to call this a miracle. Small, medium or large...it don't matter. A miracle is a miracle.
Another time I was called out to a plumbing job in my van with a tradesman's trailer in tow. The road was a dead end and I had inadvertently gone past the house I was looking for. Soon I found myself half way up a steep dirt road barely wide enough for my van, slipping and sliding backwards where the trailer jack knifed into the high side bank and the whole load came to a halt. The road was very slippery because of the rain falling. Had it gone the other way...it was good bye Mike and load, over the steep descent to the bottom of the gorge. It was a hopeless situation where it seemed impossible indeed to turn the van and trailer around to get back. A voice inside was calming me and guiding me through the following. First I gathered some logs from the bush to chock the wheels of both the van and trailer. Then I disconnected the trailer and using the small log chocks I was able to wheel walk the trailer backwards by hand all the way to the bottom of the hill. Then I ever so slowly and gently, after a series of small turns, was able to turn the van around and inch by inch creep down the hill. The road was so slippery that had the van got into a slide...it could have been goodbye Mike again. The whole process to me about an hour, but with the guiding voice within I was able to escape what very easily could have been a fatal situation. Even though most would not see this as a miracle, I do because I know my limits, and I just didn't have it in me to overcome the situation on my own.
There was another time (see 17 above) while flying from my home to a beach resort on the far south coast of Victoria called Apollo Bay, my ultra light aircraft engine blew a spark plug, which caused the whole plane to shake and loose rpm. As it happened at the time I was exactly on the crest of a mountain range where I was able to idle the engine and glide all the way (about 7 miles) to the air field. Had this happened even 60 seconds earlier, I would not be here telling you about it. Not only was it a miracle I believe, but it taught me a good lesson for the future when flying in remote areas...do a proper engine check and fly with a greater margin over mountains.
For 45 years I smoked 30-40 cigarettes per day and tried everything in the book, several times, to give up, but failed every time. The doctors told me it was killing me and I had already the early symptoms of emphysema, but that was still not enough to frighten me into giving up. My motives where health, cost, smell, and my nagging wife for 10 years. All these extremely motivating reasons could not help me. One day I was reading up on the Holy Spirit and realized my body was the temple of God, and a voice then told me that with a good clean out of this temple would in turn encourage a closer relationship with God. I thought about this for many months and finally I decided I wanted God more than any other thing in the world...I had to clean up my house if I want God to spend more time there. With this new attitude still fresh in my mind heart and soul, I ripped up two packets of cigs I had and have not smoked since. What was most noticeable was the EASE in which I gave up. Suddenly 3 months had gone by and it had just occurred to me that I didn't smoke anymore. I was totally amazed at this. To the reader, this will not mean much...big deal you may say, but to me (and other ex-smokers maybe) it was nothing short of a miracle. The great thing also was the fact I never had even a glass of alcohol since whereas before it would be on average 6 stubbies per week, and more on special occasions. In hindsight I can see the reason God helped me (really, I felt no effort on my part) kick this evil and highly addictive habbit, and only one reason. Motive! If it was for my own health or money reasons, then it would be different, but my Lord knew my heart, and He had mercy on me because it was not for those selfish reasons, but my only motive was to "Draw nearer to God". And for this reason He had compassion and shot that demon of addiction in the head. The reader should really take good note of this miracle and make motive a major player in his/her life. By this miracle I was able to see clearly now that God judges the heart. Amen!

Now there were other miracles I believe before I was born again, as you can obviously see by my earlier fortunate escapes, which causes me to ponder the reasons for God's mercy while still an unbeliever. I can not be absolutely sure on this except to say maybe God saw a spark of worth in me as He did Paul the apostle for example, and although my ways were evil God was still ready to call me and reveal Himself providing I responded. I will have to wait I suppose for that answer when I meet my Lord, not that I need an answer really as I don't really want to remember this life in the next...only want to remember Jesus my Lord and all His ways.

to be continued.....

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