by John Kelly
Meanwhile back in Melbourne, Julian Knowles was doing a bit of soul searching. He had been a taxi-driver for nearly ten years, and until now, he had been the cause of just one accident over that period. It was in 1989, on a cold wet morning in July when accelerating uphill he took a corner too quickly, causing his taxi to plane across to the other side of the road and into the path of an oncoming car. The aftermath of that event was minor; a few scratches to both drivers. This current lapse in concentration however was more serious.
While Warwick Steedman had suffered minor bruising to the head and some minor leg injuries, at least he was conscious. Julian Knowles was also conscious and once again had escaped serious injury. Maria Stewart who had been a third party victim to the careless nature of Julian Knowles's driving however, was in a coma. The collision between Julian's car and the Steedman's sent Julian cannoning into Maria Stewart, who had pulled up at the intersection. Julian Knowles's passenger, who had failed to fit his seat belt, was thrown from the vehicle as it collided, landing on the median strip, and miraculously walked away, unhurt.
When Julian's wife Annette, arrived at the hospital to take him home, he was feeling guilty. As the aftermath of his actions began to take its toll, he realized he was the one responsible for the pain and suffering of other individuals, particularly Maria Stewart. For the time he was in hospital, every available moment was spent in her room, sitting by her bed in the Intensive Care ward. Annette had sat with him, praying for her recovery. Julian's wife was a 'born again' Christian, and believed deeply in the healing power of prayer. Julian was not religious, but he was happy and willing to be a part of any treatment, physical or spiritual, that might lead to Maria's recovery. Travelling home in the car, sitting in the front passenger seat, he suddenly realized what his passenger must have experienced as the accident occurred. 'To suddenly find oneself hurtling toward another car and unable to control one's destiny must be a life changing experience. To stare death in the face and live through the ordeal must bring about changes in the way one views life,' Julian thought. 'Perhaps this is how non-believers like myself, find God,' he thought.
As they continued along Doncaster Road, they passed by a church, and Julian caught sight of the sign outside. It read, 'Jesus heals all wounds'. The sign made Julian think. His thoughts turned to his wife Annette sitting alongside him driving. She believed in the power of prayer. She attended prayer meetings. What did they do there? Often on television he had seen the 'happy clappers' singing and swaying to the music, hands in the air, waving to and fro. He had seen people praying in tongues. 'Gibberish,' he thought. 'Manufactured,' he thought. 'It was nothing more than ordinary people being taken up with the power of the moment, wanting to be a part of something extraordinary.' Julian had heard of incredible claims of healing before. He had heard claims by people with cancer, and other terminal illnesses, arthritis, headaches and the like, all claiming to be healed by the power of the Spirit. He never believed it, because he never had to. It was someone else's idea of entertainment. But Annette believed in it. As he pondered these things, his thoughts turned to Maria Stewart lying in Intensive Care. Gradually he began to realize that he too needed it. Not for himself but for Maria. She needed something more powerful than medical science. She needed the power of healing prayer.
"Alberto called this morning," Annette said breaking the calming silence inside the car. "He has another car for you while yours is being repaired. Very generous of him, particularly after you have cost him fifteen hundred dollars in insurance excess." Julian took the news in silence. Alberto owned the car he drove and nearly destroyed and Alberto accepted full responsibility financially. Now he had another car available for Julian to drive.
"I'll wait a day or two. I'm still a little wonky in my head."
"Wonky?" Annette asked. "What do you mean?"
"I don't feel all that sure of myself at the moment. I'll wait a day or two." Then as an afterthought, he asked, "When is your next prayer meeting?"
The question came as a surprise to Annette. Julian had never asked when she was going to prayer meetings before. She would always have to remind him.
"Tomorrow night. Why?"
"Nothing, just asking," he said. Annette looked at him strangely, as she pulled into the supermarket car park. "I just need to pop in and get some food for Foofo," she said. "Poor little dear, she's been neglected a bit over the last day or so."
13.
