Saturday, 12 September 2015


It was not a vision, or a dream that changed the course of my destiny.  It all started as simple observation that I made as a young man, about something I read.  I then made a simple decision in based on this one observation, not realising the impact that it would have on my life, and indeed, on the nation as a whole.  Who knows, it may affect the entire planet.  But, enough waffling.  Let me tell you the course of events that has brought me into the situation I now find myself. 

Have you ever read the bit in the Bible about the two prophets that herald the end?  Well, my friend, if you have not, I encourage you to read it.  It is not the entire book of Revelations, nor the whole episode of the end times that caught my attention.  It was not anything written, about the two miracle workers that are gunned down for the whole world to see, that made me think.  It was in fact something left out about the two spiritual giants that got my brain racing.  A simple and seemingly irrelevant detail omitted from the book of Revelations caught my eye and set my imagination on fire.  But again, let me just emphasis, I did not go looking for hidden messages, nor did I seek a great revelation of the apocalypse.  

I was merely reading a piece from the Bible in the morning before I set about my daily business.  I re-read the piece a few times to make sure that what I thought I had read, or not read in this case, was accurate.  Revelations is the big scary book at the end of the Bible that goes into finite detail on how the world ends.  It has graphic representations of angels, and sequence of events and reasons for the world ending.  It talks of monsters, battles, and demons.  It is a dramatic book if you believe in all that sort of thing.  Yet, none of that spoke to me the day I read it repeatedly.  It was a simple little detail that I built a whole theory on, that may or may not be true.

The writer of Revelations omits the gender of the two end time prophets.  It was as simple as that! The references to the two are always “them,” “their” and “they.”  My friend, I cannot tell you how that tickled my imagination.  I got caught in a haze of questions about why the writer of Revelations, so articulate and accurate to include even minute details all through his work, would omit such a trivial thing.  For a few days, I pondered this seemingly irrelevant piece of information, until another simple thought crossed my confusion: maybe the omission of the gender of the two end time prophets was no accident.  Maybe the exclusion of their gender was intentional.  Maybe the writer of the scariest book in the Bible left out the gender of the two prophets because it would have a major impact on the message he was trying to convey to his readers.

The answer was not hard to find.  The time and generation that the writer of Revelations lived in had a very dim view of female leaders and prophets.  Although ironically there were many great leaders and visionaries detailed all through the Holy Book, which were all female.  I could understand that including a simple word like “she” or “her” in the description of the world’s greatest spiritual event could distract from the importance of the message.  Maybe the author carefully omitted gender descriptive words in order to avoid causing upset and distracting from the main message.  Is it possible that two people that shake the foundation of the planet are woman?  Maybe not both, but could at least one be a female?  That piece of reasoning changed my life.  Forever.

As I grew, did business, preached and learned, I decided that I wanted a daughter.  Oh my friend, you have no idea what repercussions I suffered because I wanted a girl-child.  It seems that the ancient stigma’s of being female has not left our society.  It seems that this prejudice is lying just below the surface, as if females were an undesired scourge in our neighbourhoods.  My male friends all wanted me to have a boy.  “Have a son,” they would bark at me.  “Having a daughter is shit, and difficult.”  They would describe how I could play rugby and go fishing and teach a boy to drive.  The implication was that as a father I could not do these things with my daughter.

How preposterous!  Every conversation with male friends made me realise how society thought females were weak, stupid and undesirable.  My own, liberal, freethinking and progressive friends were wracked with prejudice, each one insistent on how much better a boy child would make my life.  Each one claiming how one could “relive” childhood through the boy, and one should teach him all the things not taught by one’s own father.  The offspring should be a little “mini-me”, a carbon copy of me, minus my failures.  This angered me.  The book of Revelations kept flashing through my mind.  The author was seemingly so careful to avoid using gender descriptive words because of the prejudice of the society in which he lived would not accept female prophets, female leaders, and female world changers.  Not just his, but my society too!  My friends!  Currently, men are still against, afraid, of female leaders, of feminine greatness.  The louder my friends insisted on me having a son, the more ardent I became on wanting a daughter. 

With the ebb and flow of my life, it seemed that I would not have the opportunity to raise a daughter, or any child for that matter.  A failed marriage and no marriage or children prospects on the horizon did not do much to encourage my hopes of being a dad one day.  As time passed and I grew up, I put the concept of parenting away.  It seemed destiny had a different path chosen for my life.  It was a bittersweet conclusion I thought.  Sweet in a sense that the lifestyle I was living was too hectic and unpredictable to raise any child in, and bitter because I would have loved to raise a girl to kick “male-hood” mentality in business, in life.

Yet, miracles do happen.  Towards the end of a rocky relationship, the woman and I decided to part ways.  We did so amicably, as assets and children were not present to complicate the issue.  We split ways and I was a surprise when I received a phone call from the lady a few weeks later.  She had moved to another town, made a clean and fresh start in the capital of our nation, and seemed to have put me out of her mind.  It was in her nature to be blunt and to the point about what she wanted from me.  “I’m pregnant” she blurted.

I was shocked.  The topic of children had only ever surfaced once in conversation during our relationship.  It was a brief conversation.  “I don’t want kids,” she barked one Sunday as we had a late breakfast in bed.  Now, being a traditionalist she did not want to raise the child on her own, and thought it necessary to be married and give the baby a normal home.  I said very little as she rattled off the arrangements of marriage and cohabitation details. 

It was not until about a month after I was informed of the untimely pregnancy that I suddenly recalled the two female prophets from the book of Revelations.  I immediately walked to my bedroom, picked up my Bible, and opened it to the account of the rise and demise of the end time prophets.  I read it.  I read it again, aloud.  I plonked down on the bed and thought this is an opportunity.  In an instant, I decided her name would be Rachel.  Please my friend, there was no voice, no writing on the wall dictating what name we would give the child.  At this point, we did not know if it was a boy or girl.  The mother was clear that she did not want to know the gender of the child until he/she was born.  As I sat on the bed, I just knew it would be a girl and that her name was going to be Rachel.

The mother and I worked at falling in love, and soon she became my wife.  Our excitement and sense of family grew as the baby grew in my wife stomach.  We discussed strategies and points of view on how to raise a child best.  I never told my wife about the view I had of the two female prophets in the book of Revelations.  I thought it I had told her; she would think I am crazy.  I did however, share that I had a strong feeling that the child of ours would influence the world in some special way.  It was true - I did have that feeling.  Did I think my child would be one of the Revelations prophets?  No.  Well okay, I will admit, maybe for a brief moment I had hoped that the Hand of God would lead our unborn child to change the world.  Yet, reading the demise of the prophets, as they are gunned downed and their bodies remained in the road for three days, I decided, as a parent I would not like to witness such a thing happen to my child, male or female.  I think every parent or parent-to-be has ideals of the greatness their child would potentially reach.  I do not think I was any different to any other parent in that respect.  Even my wife had ideals of an awesome life for our child.

I did share with my wife that I thought the unborn child was going to be a girl.  The outrage and resentment this caused amongst my friends in my younger days prepared me for the barrage of questions and strange looks that I received from my wife.  “Why a girl, and not a boy?” she asked every time we discussed our child’s future.  It seemed to me that not even females are immune to the prejudice against girls.  I was ready with an answer.  It was the same answer I gave before.

The possibility of having a daughter excited me for many reasons.  Firstly, our planet, nature has a female descriptive name: Mother Earth and Mother Nature.  The most powerful forces in nature have historically had female names, such as hurricanes, tornados and volcanoes.  The fact that our forefathers, our ancestors decided it was a good idea to give the very life giving, Earth, and the life changing forces, hurricanes etc., and female names is a reflection of how they thought that woman had the ability to bring forth life, and wield powerful life changing forces.

Secondly, I believe that we grow up and grow old surrounded by people that want our attention and energy for their own ulterior and selfish motives.  One opportunity a man gets to experience the unconditional love as described in 1 Corinthians 13 is when he has a daughter.  Our little boys we inflict with our own fears and failures as we try to relive our childhoods and correct the mistakes of the past.  Sons are either accepted or rejected by their fathers, based on how much of themselves the fathers can see in their sons. But with girls, it is different.  For the first few years of their lives, fathers are heroes.  Men are great in their girl child’s eyes.  Girls genuinely appreciate their dads for the love, affections and gifts that they offer.  Girls provoke men to be great.  It is true that behind every successful man is a woman.  People assume that the woman in question is his wife.  I believe that the woman behind a man’s greatness is his daughter.  No one encourages, motivates or inspires a man without agenda or greed to reach his full potential like his daughter.  There is nothing more challenging to remain fallen after a defeat, than when a man looks up into the believing eyes of his daughter. 

A man’s greatness, his desire to live out his potential, his eagerness to fulfil his destiny is at its strongest when in the crowd of life’s spectators, he sees the face of his daughter.  Let us not beat about the bush here, my friend.  The reality is when a girl child is born to a man that is weak, unable or unwilling to live out his potential that he can become abusive, or alternatively will sink into oblivion.  You cannot face one of nature’s greatest forces and not be affected.  You either rise to greatness, or dissolve.  Even with the failings of man, the opportunity for unconditional love is through his daughter.  A semblance of the love God has for each one of us as human beings is found between a father and his daughter.  There can be no greater wealth and happiness, in my mind, as when a man stands beside his life-giving wife, to pick up that new-born dependant bundle of human to discover it is a girl.  The first moment she is in his arms, she creeps right into his heart, to never leave it again.

The wife and I came to the understanding that if the unborn child turned out to be a boy, she would name him.  If the child were a boy, his name would be Jack.  If the child happened to be female, I would have the honour of picking her name.  I kept my confidence and held my ground when people challenged the name I picked and stood by: Rachel.  During my wife’s pregnancy I formulated ideas of the types of things I thought a world-changing girl would have to be able to do, to know, and to understand.  My wife and I spoke about the raising of our child.  The thought of a balanced, educated, strong, confident child appeals to everyone, and there was agreement on how we would go about achieving this.

Rachel was born in early summer.  A strong and healthy baby girl weighing in at 4.1kg.  My wife had trouble during the birth, and was hospitalised for some time after Rachel was born.  This plunged me into the role of “mom” and a bond formed between Rachel and me within these two fantastic weeks.  This tiny little form that was so dependent on others for her every need captivated my mind and heart.  Her voice was like her dads, loud, booming and commanding.  She seemed to have a commanding air about her.  She commanded attention and respect wherever she went.

I took every opportunity I could to impart skills and knowledge that I thought a world changer would need at their disposal.  I took a lot of time to teach balance to Rachel.  As soon as she could stand, she was balancing on my shoulders, in my hands, on one leg, on the edge of chairs and tables.  I believe that a balanced body is an extension of a balanced mind, but in order to create a balanced mind, one must learn to balance the body.  I avoided gender stereotypes, encouraging her to play “boy” games and “girl” games alike, with the same energy and zeal.  This non-gender role development did not sit well with her traditionalist mother.  As much as I broke down stereotype roles, my wife would reinforce them.  I exercised her ability to communicate with people, taking care not to carry my prejudice over to her, but rather let her formulate her own opinions about those she met.  It was impossible to prevent her mother from polluting Rachel’s mind with her own fears and pre-conceived ideas.

It is no secret that, my friend, as Rachel grew in her uniqueness, the parenting style differences caused a lot of tension between my wife and I.  My wife’s narrow and traditionalist mentality grew fiercer the older Rachel got, but never did I imagine that this difference would result in a so-called “threat to national security.”  The tension between my wife and I spilled from arguments over parenting, to tension in the bedroom, to tension always.  My wife did everything in her power to limit my time with my child, until one day the tension between us exploded.  That explosion resulted in my young daughter becoming a prisoner of the state, as they controlled what she learned, and with whom she interacted.  The concept of teaching my daughter to think outside of prejudice, which started by noticing missing gender descriptions for two end time prophets in the book of Revelations, resulted in me being denied access to my child.  My parenting style was labelled as a threat to national security.

That label, my beliefs and I being a threat to national security, is not a true reflection of the real problem.  My child is under siege, in order to protect the public from the truth.  In Order to suppress the truth, they hunt me like a wild animal.  The government of our nation needed public support and funding in order to supress the truth.  This was achieved by imprisoning my child and making up a pack of lies about my intentions for my Rachel.  These lies has made me a fugitive.  I now run for my survival, fearing for my life.  I run from the government and I hide from the public.  I fear for your life, my friend. Yet, even bigger than that, I fear for the freedom of our nation, and our inherent privilege to be able to choose between right and wrong for ourselves.  I write this to you, not because I want your help, but because I want you to tell the full story of how this adventure started.  I want you to tell them that I am not some drugged lunatic, or some delusional fool that hears voices and sees visions.  I am no killer.  I am no threat to anyone.  I want people to know where it all began.  The media will broadcast how it all ends.

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