Dual Citizenship

Australia and America have always been allies, and it's quite a privilege to now hold citizenship in both countries. Akin to marriage, this new commitment of dual citizenship brings with it a deeper sense of responsibility, and I'm looking forward to living that out.

I have always felt a deep loyalty to Australia, the land of my birth. As I looked up at the huge American flag waving in the breeze outside our church this morning, I realize that as a new citizen here, it's as though the country has formally adopted me, and my feet feel firmly planted on both sides of the Pacific. A rebel Aussie on Southern rebel turf!

But above all these sentiments of patriotism, I am reminded that my ultimate allegiance goes way beyond these two countries, to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. My real home is not on this earth, but in God's heavenly Kingdom, and the following is my true Pledge of Allegiance...

I pledge allegiance to the Lamb

With all my strength

With all I am

I will seek to honor His commands

I pledge allegiance to the Lamb

To the Lamb of God who bore my pain

Who took my place, who wore my shame

I will seek to honor His commands

I pledge allegiance to the Lamb

(lyrics by Ray Boltz)

Citizenship Ceremony

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2010 - Today I pledged my allegiance to the United States of America, and was sworn in as a U.S.citizen.


I stood with 60 other people from 26 different countries in the tightly packed courtroom in Nashville. Saying the Pledge of Allegiance after being sworn in suddenly had new meaning. Now it was my personal commitment all the way.

Wow! There are so many marker moments along the journey to this day. So let me take you on a little trip. Take the time to stop and explore the couple of side roads along the way. And feel free to leave any comments at the end.

Falling in love with Bill over 30 years ago - my dashing Southern Gentleman from Tennessee - turned my heart towards America. The day I signed our marriage certificate, I also pledged allegiance in my heart to the country of his birth, as we united to become one. He took me on two extensive business trips to the States, and I was hooked! I began keeping a map of the U.S. beside our bed, dreaming of the wonders to be explored, new places and people and cultures, breathtaking sights, fascinating history. I studied it frequently till it was dog-eared with use, and Bill laughed every time I sang “I want to live in America!”

When our plans to buy property in Australia fell through, and his contract with the Australian Government drew to an end, we decided this was it! We packed our bags, stored or sold furniture and belongings, and in 1986 moved to the U.S., embarking on a new adventure together – now irrevocably connected to both countries.

I entered the U.S. with the coveted Permanent Resident status – a Resident Alien, as my “Green Card” stated. Immigration wasn’t very amused when I sat in their office in Honolulu airport with these alien antennae on my head (a gift from Australian niece Julie for the occasion!) to process my final entrance paperwork. Well, we thought it was funny!

We hit the West Coast, bought car and camping gear, and headed east to Tennessee. It’s been a grand adventure ever since. Reconnecting with Bill’s roots, living first in his old family homeplace. A thousand treasured times with his sons, nephews, brother, sister, and their families spread coast-to-coast. We have criss-crossed the country many times, camping, sailing, flying, and exploring. Tried various enterprises in a country that encourages entrepreneurism. Always drawn on by the creative urge. Blessed with an abundance of wonderful friends.

I’ve grown to care deeply about America, and the principles upon which it was founded. Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, equality, upholding the principles of morality and honesty and our God-given rights. I believe it both a responsibility and an honor to follow the call given by President John F. Kennedy – “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country.” Giving a hand up is far more productive than simply a hand out; building up people’s self esteem more enduring than robbing them of hope; and honoring God in all we say and do opens the pathway for God to bless this nation. I plan to use my new privilege to vote, and seek after accountability in this country.

Let’s now take a trip to the Tennessee State Legislature and listen in to the words of an amazing woman, Lt. Col. Courtney Rogers (Ret. USAF), whom I have had the honor of getting to know in recent months.
Click on the Session Start video on the left hand side of that page.

There is something so special about flags. Growing up in Australia, the sight of the Australian flag is a wonderful reminder of my country’s heritage and its place under Southern skies guided by the Southern Cross. Living in America I have come to appreciate a new flag – the Stars and Stripes with its colorful history dipped in blood. This is a country steeped in patriotism, and over the past 23 years I have pledged my allegiance to that flag more times than I can number. It is now filled with new meaning, as I metaphorically wrap that flag around my shoulders, embraced by the country that my husband was also prepared to die for.

I received my first U.S. flag two years ago. Presented to me in honor of Bill’s service during World War II as a pilot in the USAC/USAAF. Presented on the day we scattered his ashes around the big oak tree, and celebrated his life.

Take a moment to watch this short video clip to understand the patriotism my husband was honored for.

Thank you to the 20 friends who stood with me in that court room to mark this significant moment, including the two family who’d driven 12 hours from Florida, and the two friends who’d made the trip from Atlanta – and to those who were with me in spirit. Thank you all for welcoming me as a new citizen!

DUAL CITIZENSHIP

For many years Bill and I have kept our two countries linked. Bill as U.S. citizen and permanent resident of Australia; me as Australian citizen and permanent resident of the U.S. Several years ago Australia and the U.S. made a reciprocal agreement to allow a person to have dual citizenship. With Bill’s passing almost two years ago, taking off on the last Great Adventure, I felt I wanted to firmly plant myself and my loyalties in both countries. While always being proud to be an Australian, and proud of the land of my birth, I am also deeply committed to my adoptive country. So to all my fellow Aussies – have no fear, I have not sold my birthright!

I AM NOW A CITIZEN OF BOTH AUSTRALIA AND THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. A true Aussie American!

Eager for Spring

Hallelujah! The snow has finally melted on the ground! Of course, snow is very pretty, I’ll be the first to admit. It sparkles in the sun and makes the world look fresh and new, with a beauty in the silence that is totally captivating.

But here in Tennessee, we are ready for springtime! If we wanted long winters, we’d live further north! This has been a cold winter by Tennessee standards, and up here on the ridge before one good snow melted, along came the next one. Four in the past three weeks. That’s a lot for us.

It’s been fun getting snowed in, and the snow ploughs have been a regular sight down the road. The dogs love it, and the birds empty out the bird feeders twice a day, if I’m generous enough to keep filling them. All these hungry mouths to feed! And the recurring question first thing in the morning has often been “Can I get off the ridge today to go to work?” It’s the ice that determines the answer to that. I guess we’ve just gotten spoilt with relatively mild winters – a few snows for sheer enjoyment, interspersed with those glorious days that fool us into thinking spring is here, and we start thinking about planting and growing, eager to get outside and dig in the dirt.

So before I move on, let me share a few pictures of our recent snows.

Lest you think we Tennesseans are the only ones talking about the snow like this, I’ll share a wonderful story a friend forwarded to me just a few days ago.

This humorous story should make those getting snow smile, and those of us not, smile even more.

December 8: 6:00 PM. It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!

December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the Whole World? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had. Shoveled for the first time in years, felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snowplow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life.

December 12: The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a disappointment. My neighbor tells me not to worry, we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I'll never want to see snow again. I don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man, I'm glad he's our neighbor.

December 14: Snow, lovely snow! 8" last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so.

December 15: 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and two extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska , after all.

December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my butt on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like blazes. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.

December 17: Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for five hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. Gosh I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.

December 20: Electricity's back on, but had another 14" of the damn stuff last night. More shoveling. Took all day. Damn snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower, and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.

December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas, because 13 more inches of the white crap fell today, and it's so cold it probably won't melt 'til August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel, and then I had to pee. By the time I got undressed, peed and dressed again, I was too tired to shovel! Tried to hire Bob, who has a plow on his truck, for the rest of the winter; but he says he's too busy. I think the jerk is lying.

December 23: Only 2" of snow today, and it warmed up to "0". The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What, is she nuts!!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did, but I think she's lying.

December 24: 6". Snow packed so hard by snowplow, I broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son-of-a-gun who drives that snowplow, I'll drag him through the snow by his b---s and beat him to death with my broken shovel. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over everywhere I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the damn snowplow.

December 25: Merry F!=3D@x@!x!x1 Christmas. 20 more inches of the !=3D@x@!x!x1 slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. Man, I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's a fricking idiot. If I have to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to stuff her into the microwave.

December 26: Still snowed in. Why the blazes did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.

December 27: Temperature dropped to -30, and the pipes froze. Plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him; he only charged me $1,400 to replace all my pipes.

December 28: Warmed up to above -50. Still snowed in. The Battleaxe is driving me crazy!!!!!

December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?

December 30: Roof caved in. I beat up the snow plow driver. He is now suing me for a million dollars; not for only the beating I gave him, but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel where the sun don't shine . The wife went home to her mother. 9" predicted.

December 31: I set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.

January 8: Feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?

Now that the snow has melted, the buds are almost bursting on the trees, and look! the daffodil bulbs already have shoots 3 inches high! Before you know it, we’ll even be casting off from the dock and sailing the Wanderin’ Star in a spring breeze!

Circles of Life

February 7, 2010, marked the one-year anniversary of the horrific bushfires in Australia, in my home state of Victoria. The day 173 people perished, as the flames roared through small townships and majestic forests of towering eucalypts, devouring everything in their path and sending helpless wildlife fleeing for its life. In Australia the flags were flown at half mast, a national day of mourning remembering the victims of Black Saturday, Australia’s worst-ever natural disaster in recorded history.

As much as man is fascinated with fire, drawn to it like moths to a flame, it is a heart-wrenching experience to know that your country is burning up, the land of your birth that you love to the very core your being. Of all the images I hold dear, that capture the true essence of all I love about Australia, it is the tall eucalypts, multicolored bark peeling in long tendrils, leaves hanging lazy and relaxed, exuding the invigorating fragrance of eucalyptus oil that permeates our very pores, filling every breath we inhale.

Last May I returned to Australia to share my country with my American brother-in-law, Don, and his wife Barbara. What a treat that was! Such dear ones in our family. But filled with so many unexpected experiences. Many circles of my life completed.

Just before nephew Mike’s wedding, we drove up to Marysville, one of the areas hardest hit by the bushfires. Almost every building and house in the town destroyed by fire in the February of 2009. We drove up the Black Spur, a steep, winding, mountain road through stunning stands of towering Mountain Ash, miles of fragrant eucalyptus forest, once magnificent gleaming white trunks trailing long strips of peeling bark. Tall tree ferns, coarse brown bodies decked in delicate waving fronds. Shrouded in a blue mist heavy with the exotic fragrance of the Australian bush. Now it was a landscape of blackened trees, grim reminders of the blazing inferno that had swept these mountainsides.

Very little remained of this once thriving little mountain retreat. A mecca for holiday makers. A romantic resort for lovers. A spiritual retreat. Mike had planned to bring his bride here on their honeymoon, and we walked the charred remains of the land. The sign proclaiming Riverside Cottages was the only reminder left.

In the middle of town we stopped to walk the desolate streets. Lone chimneys the sole survivors, ashen strings of a piano splayed in the dirt now a ghostly relic of happier days. Bulldozers scraped debris into growing mounds. A huge eucalyptus tree –called simply a gum tree by every native Australian – lay prone across a reserve flanked by a gurgling stream, burned and toppled in the devastating fires.

In a sudden urge, I touched my hand to the bark, a gesture of reverence for the sacrifice it had made. It was like a brand – red hot, almost burning my skin. In that instant I could hear the crackling and roar of the approaching fire on that fateful day. The bush exploding spontaneously, feel the heat of the wall of flames sweeping the hillsides on its deathly rampage. I felt the pain of the tree about to die, heard the screams of wildlife fleeing the raging inferno. I took my hand away and the sounds and sensations dimmed – put it back, and flames fanned the roar filling my ears once again. I knew my connection with this sunburned country ran deep – I had no idea it was this strong, to feel its very pain.

Many years ago I had stayed at Marysville’s El Kanah, where we spent a week at a CFO camp for spiritual replenishment and renewal. We stopped at the only remaining store in town, a bakery, and asked for directions. Take the road out of town and past the golf course. I recognized the landmarks. There was the golf course. And opposite – I could barely reconcile the site of the lodge now vanished. The red earth scraped bare. Images danced before my eyes, and I heard the strains of music, the prayers and the praise and worship, saw the loved faces, felt again the warm hug of my spiritual mentor who had been one of the leaders at the retreat.

A man emerged from the lone building left standing on this scarred patch of dirt. He had evacuated just minutes before the building exploded in flames and evaporated. We walked around the remaining stone wall. “Do you recognize where the entrance was?” he asked. We walked the curving perimeter of the wall, and suddenly it all came back in a flash. I saw people gathered in the main conference room, where we shared creative dance and worship, meditation, creative writing and art. I heard the speakers, and saw the campers lined up before the leaders for the final prayer blessing. Now consumed by fire, yet here I was, a seeming lifetime later, walking around it and looking in, observing my life past. “God has blessed so many people here,” I murmured. “You have no idea.”

This was also the place Bill had met Norman Renshaw – the man of God who prayed for his healing from leukemia 30 years ago. Life and death, renewal and rebirth, through trial and fire. I knew this trip back to Australia after Bill’s passing one short year before would be significant, but I had no idea in how many ways. When we complete the circles of our life, it is a profound experience, like walking on holy ground. We are never the same again.

The biggest surprise of all on this sad and melancholic day were the signs of life everywhere. Across a vast landscape of blackened trunks and scoured land, a bright green fuzz adorned every tree. Young shoots emerged up and down every tree trunk, new life sprouting from the ashes of destruction. Fresh new fronds spread eagerly from charcoal tree ferns. Irrepressible life springing forth.

The wonder of the Australian bush is a great life lesson. Very much akin to the Australian spirit – tough, resilient, determined, optimistic. It is designed to regenerate only after fire – the catalyst that germinates native seeds, is needed to sprout leaf buds hidden beneath tree bark, and the purging force that clears leaf litter, pests, and low scrub that competes for light and nourishment from the soil. Fire is part of Australia’s life force. Devastating, but cleansing. Destruction followed by renewal. Death and rebirth. We see God doing the same with us. He puts us through fiery trials in life – not to destroy us, but to refine our character and reveal our strengths. To eliminate the things that slow our growth and our progress, that inhibit us from reaching tall and flourishing. Painful, yes, but the regeneration cannot come without it.