TRAX 4WD Fellowship

CROSSTRAX!

One man’s view
about the things
that really matter….

Stories that may
be strange, yet true,
from the Chaplain’s Travel Log….

Continuing the saga of ‘Bluey’ that we began last issue.

This month:

When the blackberries (almost) ate Bluey!

If only I had some pictures of this story! Pictures of Bluey, his old Morris car, and his shack. But sadly, these events occurred when I was only about 8 or 9 (that’s about 70 years ago now) and before I had a camera. Never mind, read on….

It was still winter in Blayney and therefore quite (read very) cold. Bluey was ‘out’ driving in his old Morris car and on his way to the village of Neville. The road that he was on was a reasonably good dirt road and was well graded. Bluey’s old Morris had, to put it mildly, seen better days and many ‘bits’ of it, like the foot brakes, no longer worked. That didn’t worry Bluey, because, as he told my Uncle for whom he was a casual worker, he would “jist ease on the handbrake’ when he wanted to slow down or stop. Bluey never let little inconveniences like brakes, get in the way of his travels!

Bluey Jones liked to smoke. He was a ‘roll your own’ man, and always carried his leather tobacco pouch around with him. He always said, like the swaggie in the later Slim Dusty song, “A man’s gotta have good ‘baccy’ when he smokes.” Good? All I can say is that the stuff he smoked smelt like a garbage fire at the local tip!

Well back to the story. As he drove along this day the road was deserted, no other vehicles and only the occasional rabbit on the roadside, Bluey felt like ‘avin a smoke’ and reached down to get his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and realizing that he was out of cigarette papers in the little compartment in the pouch, turned his head to look down onto the other seat where ‘he reckoned that he had some more, somewhere’. It was while that he was scrabbling around in the rubbish on the seat and looking for his cigarette papers that he failed to notice in time the sharp bend in the road and not having serviceable brakes failed to make the bend and ran off the road.

This was both a blessing and a real problem both for the car and for Bluey. A blessing because where he ran off the road was an enormous clump, patch, thicket call it what you will of blackberry bushes. This acted as a brake to stop him running into a very large lot of boulders at the other end of the blackberry thicket. It was a problem because these blackberry bushes were at least 5 metres high and about 9 -10 metres deep. The car went in and like a giant clam the blackberries totally enveloped the car.

I mean totally. Bluey was trapped. He couldn’t open the driver’s door more than a couple of inches (they had real measurements then!) Bluey had no means of cutting or hacking at the thick blackberry canes. He was trapped! But Bluey was nothing if not the world’s greatest optimist. “I’ll be orright” was his famous slogan. “someth’n or someone’ll come along”, besides the snakes that were reasonably prolific in that part of the country!

So, Bluey sat in the car and smoked. And smoked. And smoked. He smoked until he ran out of cigarette papers or matches or his beloved ‘baccy’. That’s when things started to get serious! No more matches and no more ‘baccy’! For a bloke like Bluey sitting still wasn’t his idea of a fun afternoon either. But he was trapped.

The sun was starting to get low in the sky when bluey heard the sound of a car coming along the road. The horn! It still worked and Bluey pushed against the horn button as if his life depended on it.

Then came a voice that he knew well. It was ‘the Boss’ as Bluey called him sometimes. My Uncle, Sam Marsden (his real name by the way) calling out “Bluey are you in there?”

“Ye-es Mr. Ma-arsden” (Bluey always extended the sounds of vowels in his words.) “I’m ‘ere, but I can’t quite git out” (Understatement of the year!) “Yer see I’m sorta stuck ‘n th’ door won’t open. Too many of these blanky blackies all aroun’ – jist about swallered me up. ‘n Mr. Maarsden, I’m bustin’, ‘n if I don’t git out soon….” The sentence remained unfinished.

“You’ll just have to …. Never mind Bluey. Look, I’m all dressed up from a meeting with the Pastures Protection Board, and I haven’t got any tools with me at all. You’ll just have to sit tight till I get home and I’ll send out my son Baeden with the tractor and scrub hooks to clear some of those blackberries, and some chain, to pull you out. Just …well hang on for a while…”

“Orright Mr. Maarsden” was the rather pained reply.

********

It was about an hour later and the sun was just setting when Bluey heard the sound of the old Fordson chugging along. Bluey at least had the presence of mind to switch on the lights to try to show where he was, but such was distance that he had travelled into the blackberries all that could be seen from the road was a faint red glow from the tail light through the leaves of the enormous ‘blackberry jungle’ that had closed around the little car.

Then the voice of the Boss’s son calling his name. The most welcome sound that he had ever heard.

“Are you sure you can’t….”

The sentence remained unfinished as the young man shone a powerful torch around the bushes that had closed like a trap around the car and realised that it was impossible to get through the tangled mass of the huge, thick blackberry canes that had entirely enveloped the car.

“Well, you’ll just have to sit tight for a while longer Bluey, while I slash these bushes in order to get through to your car to put a chain around some part of the chassis so’s I can pull you out.”

“Please hurry” muttered Bluey. Bushman he was, and old clothes might have been his attire, but Bluey had his pride and wetting his trousers was just not on…. he hoped!

Slash, slash, slash. It took quite a few minutes for the young man to hack a way through the incredibly thick thorny undergrowth to reach the back of the car. The chain was looped around part of the chassis and attached to the tractor.
“Now Bluey”, came the voice, “When you hear the sound of the tractor engine begin to ‘rev-up’, then start your engine, put your car into reverse and try to assist. It’ll put less strain on your car’s chassis that way, after all it’s quite a slope to have to come up.”

The Tractor revved, the slack on the chain was taken up, and Bluey also started and let out the clutch on the old Morris.

With the Fordson pulling, even the blackberries knew that they had met their match and slowly the old car was released from its captor and came back onto the road. Bluey pulled on the old handbrake and kind of rolled out of the car and disappeared around to the front.

Baeden understood, and waited. In a couple of minutes Bluey reappeared with a very relieved look on his face.

“I dunno what was worse young Mr. Maarsden” he said slowly. “Runnin’ out of baccy or havin’ to ter sit in th’ car an’ not bein’ able t’ go…”

“I’ll be orright now “he said using his usual expression. “I c’n drive ‘t home now. Th engine still goes, ‘n I think th’t th’ radiator’s still orright… Thanks agen, young Mr. Maarsden.”

********

He made it home ‘orright’. But there’s a great lesson here which makes this a really important ‘CROSSTRAX’ message.
Imagine the scene if you can. An enormous out of control, clump of blackberries. I can vouch for it. The biggest that I had ever seen. A man trapped and unable to get out or to help himself. He was ‘orright’ for a while – or until his ‘baccy’ ran out. It was lonely road back then and if there had not been the marks on the edge of the road where the little Morris had skidded off and into the blackberries no one would have known where Bluey was and if the man needed help.

But by the greatest piece of good fortune (we really should call it ‘grace’) – ‘The Boss’ came by, saw the problem and knew what to do. He sent his son with the means to extricate the trapped man, and did it. Bluey was an incorrigible bloke, and didn’t deserve to be rescued, but he was rescued because ‘the Boss’ was like that – always ready to hear the cry of anyone who cried out “Have mercy on me I desperately need help and am totally unable to get myself out of the mess that I’ve landed myself in.”

God saw our need and sent his Son Jesus to save and get us out of our mess. That’s what Christmas, Good Friday, and Easter Day are all about. The thing is, have you recognised that eternal mess that you are in and accepted the offer of help or are you still trying to work out a way to extricate yourself? You will never do it. You need help from the Boss’ Son – Jesus.

In the New Testament we read that “at the right time, when we were powerless Christ came” …. And “died for the ungodly.” It was Jesus who said, “Come to me, all who are burdened down and I will refresh you, and … give you peace.”

What about it? Are stuck in the blackberries, the covid, the life with no joy or future? The Boss is never far away and hears our cry for help.

Next month: We conclude our Bluey trilogy with “When the Coppers got Bluey.” Don’t miss it!

Neil Flower TRAX Chaplain
0408 216 401

CROSSTRAX!

One man’s view
about the things
that really matter….

Stories that may
be strange, yet true,
from the Chaplain’s Travel Log….

This month:

A Rather ‘Blue’ Story from the Chaplain!

Ah, well, not the sort of story that you might be imagining. Let me put you into the picture.
It was about 1953, and I was about 10 at the time when I first met ‘Bluey’ (everybody knew him as that and I don’t think that anyone knew what his real name was), Jones. I’ll call him jones just in case old Bluey still has some relatives who might be reading this!

Yep, Bluey Jones. A likeable, unusual, and totally different bloke who lived in Blayney NSW. Bluey could best be described as a ‘settled swagman’ – owned little, wanted little, cared little, (except that he did have a kind nature.) He’ d give you the shirt off his back if he thought that you needed it. Mind you, Bluey’s shirts rarely came off his back. He didn’t have much in the way of extra clothes and I think that once a shirt or pair of trousers ‘went on’, they stayed on till they fell apart. Bluey lived a simple life. He squatted in a little tumble-down, almost derelict cottage that was covered in vines and creepers which almost completely hid it from view, and which was right at the edge of town and just down the road from where my uncle’s property was. My relatives had first settled in Blayney in 1849 and so by 1953 (104 years later) the town had grown outwards and now there was a distinct break between where the few houses finished (on Bluey’s side of the street), and where the first of the rural properties began.

Well enough of the background. Let me share with you the first of three stories about ‘Bluey’ Jones.

Bluey goes to Dubbo

Bluey used to find some casual employment on the uncle’s property as a part time rouseabout, worker or at digging potatoes. His wages were good although he never cared much about money. The uncle paid him well and Bluey was a good worker. When it was time to ‘harvest’ the potatoes Bluey would start sometimes after he woke up (generally before daylight and keep going until it became too dark to work any longer. He was paid by the bag, so he actually earned good wages. But, as soon as the spuds were harvested Bluey would just ‘disappear’ for a few weeks. Not that he would go on a ‘bender’ as he was never known to be a drinker, but like most swagmen he would then just go away for a while. Nobody really knew where.

Bluey owned a very battered, and one would say almost completely worn out, old ‘Morris 8’ car around the 1934 vintage. It was never known to have an annual inspection and the number plates were almost unreadable. How he ever got it past the local constabulary no one will ever know. How it ever kept going no one knew either. The brakes were totally worn and didn’t work, the best they could do was make a fearful scaping and squealing noise when applied but did little else. It wasn’t driven much, for obvious reasons!

So it came as quite a surprise when one day Bluey said to my uncle (and you must read Bluey’s words in the way that he said them),

“Aww I won’t be comin’ inter work f’ th’ next coupla days Mr. Maarrsden, I’m goin ter Dubbo t’see me brother. ‘Is wife’s real crook n’ they think shez gunna die so I thrt th’t I’d go ‘n see ‘m.”

“How are going to get there Bluey, taking the Western Night Mail or the Central West Express?”

“Aww no. Thets too fancy, I’m gunna drive up t’ there.”

“Someone’s going to drive you?

“Na, I’m goin’ in the old Morris. It’ll get me there.”

“But the brakes. Bluey, you told me that the brakes don’t work….”

“She’ll be right Mr. Maarsd’n I’ll just take it easy.”

“But Bluey, there’s a couple of traffic lights in Orange, and you’ve got a few level crossings to negotiate and, and,”

But it was no use. Bluey was not going to be persuaded otherwise. He was “goin’ in th’ old Morris, and she’ll be right.”

“But Bluey it’s against the law… What if you’re caught?” My uncle Sam was a solid Christian and very law abiding as well.

“I got a good mirror ‘t see if the coppers r’ cummin’. Besides I ‘m goin at night’n they won’t see me.”

Bluey’s mind was made up and nothing was going to stop him. He went.

Now, the purpose of this CROSSTRAX article is this: Bluey was a good man in many ways. He was kind, caring, hard working (when he wanted to come to work), he loved children, helped older people, was never known to swear or get drunk – but he hated authority. He couldn’t stand the law or the ‘Coppers’ and he didn’t see why he should have to do what the law of the land required. So he lived his life always “in the shadows’ as it were. Thinking that if he could keep out of the all-seeing eye of the law he’d be right. When my uncle had tried to tell him about the mercy and love of God, he merely brushed it aside exclaiming that if he didn’t bother God, then God wouldn’t bother him.

“It’ll be right mate.” Was his favourite expression.

Some days later, Bluey turned up on Uncle Sam’s doorstep wanting to know “’f yer had ‘ny work t’day?”

“Did you go to Dubbo?” asked Uncle. “Yairs, ‘n back ag’n. Had a few problems b’t nuthin’ th’t couldn’t be fixed.”

“But your brakes man, how did you stop?”

“Arrr, no probl’ms” he said. “Before I left I adjusted the handbrake so th’ back wheels’d just about lock up ‘f I pulled it on. Did ‘ave one hold up though. Me tyres’r a bit worn and I split one ‘v th’ front ones ‘n got a puncture half way b’tween Wellington n‘ Dubbo. Fixed it orright though, but ‘t took a bit ‘a time.

Incredulously my uncle asked “How did you fix it?”

Aww it took a bita time. I had some canvas ‘n a tin a’ tar in the back so I took the tyre orf the rim ‘n made a patch out’ve a coupla pieces a’ canvas, made a fire t’ heat the tar , n’ when ‘I wuz hot enough poured it on th’ inside’ve th’ tyre ‘n glued the canvas on t’ it then I poured s’me more tar onter that ‘n put the next piece on, ‘n’ then”, he said with a look of triumph, “put a patch over the tube with tar n’ canvas n carefully put the tube back in and pumped some air inter it. Didn’t put too much in mind yer, just enuf ter let ‘t take shape ‘ntil it started t’ go cold ‘n harder , then put enuf air in ter get me home. Slow trip, b’t we did ‘t” he finished triumphantly.

My uncle could hardly believe the story, but taking pity on Bluey went inside, got his cheque book (no credit cards in them days!!!) then said, “C’mon Bluey, get into my car, we’re going down to the local garage and see if we can get a couple of new tyres. It’s on me” he concluded.

Now what do you do with a good- hearted fellow like Bluey? He was a ‘bush philosopher’ but was never able to understand why he would matter to God or how he could find new life.

So, until I give you the next part of this narrative, think about this: Bluey’s philosophy was that if I can keep out of God’s sight then I’ll be right. But what a miserable existence. Living what he thought was a good life and yet having no joy or real peace.

Next month: When the Blackberries tried to eat Bluey!

CROSSTRAX!

One man’s view
about the things
that really matter….

Stories that may
be strange, yet true,
from the Chaplain’s Travel Log….

This Issue:

A Father’s Day Special – Read this and determine to be different:

15 Tips to Leave a
Lasting Legacy

By Guest Correspondent LARRY TOMCZAK

As fathers, to leave a legacy that lasts, it’s imperative we start out being dependent on God.

For Father’s Day, let’s linger for a little while on what we leave behind us, but remember it’s being written every day.
After 50 years as a Christian – 47 in ministry and 44 in marriage–1 concur with Dr. James Dobson: “There is no area in life where I am to be more dependent on God than in the raising of my family.”
Raising four children and helping now with seven grandchildren, quality decisions we made early enabled us to come to the place where we are today. We do not enjoy perfection but experience God’s faithfulness in this 4th quarter of life. No matter where we’re at on our journey, God guides us and reminds us that He is working “all things together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (Rom. 8:28).

Crises in Modern Manhood

To leave a legacy that lasts, it’s imperative we start dependent on God, devoted to His Word and develop into the image of biblical manhood. As Bible teacher Ed Cole said, “You’re male by birth but a man by choice.”
Today, families are in crisis. Fatherlessness is epidemic. Along with it is a parallel problem: a crisis in Australian manhood.
On University campuses, we even have classes called “Rethink Masculinity” pushed by leftists and feminists to eradicate what they call “toxic masculinity”. Proponents don’t present a positive alternative of manly virtue focused on faith, family and female protection and love, but rather seek to neuter men until real masculinity is airbrushed away! Gullible young men become men without chests, resembling weak and effeminate pantomime or TV satire characters.
Chuck Swindoll has written, “Masculinity is vanishing. Throughout the western world, fathers have lost their way to true manhood and have thrown responsibility to the wind. Sex roles are blurring, masculine leadership is disappearing, and, like dominoes, homes and marriages are collapsing.”
Dr. James Dobson says, “The Western world stands at a great crossroads in its history. It is my opinion that our very survival as a people will depend on the presence or absence of masculine leadership in millions of homes.”

Men of Steel and Velvet

Amidst today’s cultural counterfeits regarding manhood – macho man, marshmallow man and mixed-up man—God wants real men of ‘steel and velvet’. Our model is Jesus! Strong, yet kind and understanding.
Unfortunately, the person of Jesus in artwork often conjures up images of a poker-faced, wimpy killjoy who never smiled, appearing somewhat emaciated and had chubby little cherubs floating about his haloed head. This meek, mild, milquetoast image of Jesus is a distortion of the Son of God.
Although we aren’t told much about the appearance of Jesus in scripture, there’s evidence He not only embodied character traits of servanthood, meekness, (not weakness), compassion and generosity but physical strength as well.

* Imagine what 20+ years of carpentry work did for His muscular development.

* Visualize Jesus grabbing a whip, overturning tables and driving out money-changers from the temple.

* Think about those “boys on the beach”, burly fishermen dropping their nets to follow Him.

* Use your sanctified imagination to ponder His horrific flogging and enduring the infamous crucifixion depicted so vividly in Mel
Gibson’s film ‘The Passion of the Christ’.

* Think of him walking miles in the blazing sun and then ministering to crowds of thousands, addressing them without any
amplification.

Today, multitudes have engendered an anaemic view of Christian manhood. It’s resulted in churches where women outnumber men 2, 3, even 8 to 1! That’s not a shot against women, but men think that Christianity is ‘just for women and the kids.’
“We have a weak nation because we have weak churches. We have weak churches because we have weak families that are so often caused by weak ministers. We have weak families because we have weak men that have never been challenged with the true biblical standard.” Gothard/Flower.

Let us consecrate ourselves to model God’s ideal of authentic Christian manhood this Father’s Day. Then let’s learn in humility from those who have gone before us on pathways of godly, fruitful life.

As a father I knew early on that I had to give my children roots before wings. I also knew that no amount of success at work or in ministry would ever compensate for failure at home. We repeatedly made intentional decisions to reduce our standard of living to improve our quality of life. They’ve paid off with great rewards, so I offer them to you as we celebrate Father’s Day 2021.

Some Suggestions for Success

Success in marriage and family does not come from good intentions but deliberate decisions based on the Word of God. Contrary to cultural foolishness, God calls us to adhere to scripture.

“For then you will make your way successful, and you will be wise” (Josh. 1:8b).

1. Commit to the practice of prayer for your wife and children daily.

2. Remain in a posture of faith no matter what comes your way.

3. Endeavour to be led by the Spirit in line with the Word of God.

4. Obey God’s Word in everything, being quick to repent for laziness, compromise or disobedience.

5. Focus more on building character than gaining creature comforts.

6. Reinforce New Testament Christianity by meaningful church involvement, service and support.

7. Be vigilant monitoring all areas of media and relational influence affecting your children
(Remember: association brings assimilation)

8. Celebrate family Scripture reading and study but keep it meaningful, relevant and short!

9. Communicate love arid encouragement consistently, knowing rules without relationship can foster rebellion,

10. Schedule regular family fun times to make memories and keep their emotional tanks full!

11. Honour Christian education reinforcing values taught at home

12. Be intentional with consistent family mealtimes to enhance communication and stay current.
13. Plan individual “date times” and mission trips for your children.

14. Cultivate a culture of honour regarding spouses, grandparents, widows and orphans, plus church and civic leaders.

15. Celebrate with creativity life’s seasons, passages and family traditions.

Here’s the deal: As we witness the decline of the nuclear family in society, God is raising up wonderful examples of what life can be like in the kingdom of God under the benevolent reign of good King Jesus! Fathers and mothers are a team, but we dads should lead the way to excellence, so we leave a legacy that lasts for the glory of God!

Larry Tomczak is a cultural commentator of 46yrs, Intercessors for America board member, best-selling author and a public policy adviser with Liberty Counsel. His new, innovative video/book, BULLSEYE, develops informed influencers in 30 days (see www.bullseyechallenge.com). and he has a variety of resources on his website (see www.larrytomczak.com)

The above article was partly re-written and ‘Australianised’ by Neil Flower