Glory At War: Adventure...

As a child the adventure would always be in my heart. Each morning that I would wake up I would be excited to think what adventure my imagination could conceive. I would open my eyes slowly, hoping and wishing that perhaps I was in a far away place. Only to be disappointed with the familiar blue walls of my room. Disappointment wouldn't remain long though, as I would quickly get ready for the day, open my front door, take in a deep breath, close my eyes, and step into a new world.

One day it could be the jungle.

The next it would be the Sahara desert.

At one stage my neighbour and I would be pirates searching for the hidden treasure, and we built a "ship" for our ocean. In other words, we nailed planks of wood onto a tree and pretended we were sailing the high waters.
However, there came a time in my life, one I would not forget, my imagination no longer had to run wild... because I walked into an environment where reality was the adventure. Memories that would never leave me.

My parents packed our suitcases and we were off to Fiji.

Whenever I hear the word "Fiji" I do not think of "honey moon" or "family holiday".. instead I can hear the sounds of laughter as a child, the smells I learnt to love, and I remember the excitment as I pretended to be "Island girl". It was a small island that my family chose to holiday on- but to me, it was greatness.

The barefoot adventures began. I would run away from the grip of my parents and roam the island, leaving the "holiday" spot and hiding behind villagers huts to see what I could find. One particular day I found a small island, a short 1km swimming distance from the current island that we were on.To me it seemed like bliss. It had a soft glow to it; it was heaven. I looked around me to see if anyone was watching, and once all was cleared, I quickly dived into the warm tropical water.

Fully clothed.

As soon as the water hit my body I felt the greatest sensation of being alive. The adventures that I always dreamt of were right in front of me. My heart pounded faster as I swam further away from the island we were occupying. Each time I took another arm stroke in the water I felt as though I was leaving a life behind and about to begin a new one. Even the fish that were touching my body could not deter me from my greatest moment of escape.

At last I reached my destination. I clammbered out of the water and rested on the sands shore. The beauty around me was breath taking. To me, I felt that this was the reason why I was alive, why I existed. Looking around I found giant sized sea-shells, an array of colours. I looked up at the coco-nut trees a

nd the fallen coco-nuts resting on the islands grass. It was moments like these that I wished I had paid attention when the Fijian boy was trying to teach me how to crack open a coco-nut. I picked it up and tried to pift it away. That's when the hut to my right caught my eye... I crawled over to a near-by plant and hid, and I realised I was sitting on the island where the resort workers would live. Licking my salty lips and brushing the hair away from my eyes I began to form a plan that would be the beginning of a changed life. Confidently I stood up and took one bold step towards the hut. This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Marching towards the hut I rehearsed what I would say, a smile began to part on my lips.

"Bula!" I exclaimed, as a Fijian teenager opened the door. His pearly white teeth shone in the sun as he greeted me. It must have been the teeth because suddenly I was full of nerves and began to stutter.

"Uh.. uh.. hi... so, you see.. I was just in the area..."

He looks at me as though I was some crazed lunatic. Looking back I figured it must be strange to open your huts door to a nine year old white girl.

I couldn't finish my sentence... I wanted to so badly. I wanted to blurt out that I was going to move in with them, that I felt that I should live on this island and become a Fijian like the rest of them. But as I met my destiny face to face I realised the stupidity of my thinking.

Immediately I dashed away, dived back into the tropical ocean and swam back to my "holiday" island. Swam back to my family. Swam back to my life in Australia. My heart dying, adventure leaving, thoughts telling me that I was "stupid".

Childhood imaginations and adventures left me that day.

Yet now, as I'm maturing into a woman, I can see how God never let the 'adventure' leave my heart. The adventure is still in me.

But now I live my adventures for God.