After the fire…

Like January 26th, 1996, October 16th, 2023 is indelibly etched in the hearts and souls of the Mainey family. As most of you know, Australia Day of 1996 was the day that Phil’s dad, John, crossed the raging floodwaters of the Macleay River in a little dinghy to check on cattle on the family property. On his way back he lost control of the boat and was flung out into the water. Three days later, his body was recovered.

The fire that raged through the property on October 16th last year not only claimed hundreds of acres of land and the old farmhouse that Phil grew up in, but far more heart-wrenchingly, the life of a beloved son, brother, partner, father, and grandfather. Richard, at 56, was the baby brother of the family after Phil and John, and big brother to Linda. Richard was the family Mr. Fix-it. From the time he could walk, he was using his brain and his hands to pull things apart and put them back together in working order. His mum, Jennifer, remembers 4-year-old Richard climbing under the house after his dad had thrown an old pump there in frustration because he wasn’t able to fix it. Richard dragged it out and spent the rest of the day restoring it to full performance.

The incredible pain we all experienced in the days after the fire was eased somewhat by the amazing support we received from so many. The approximately 700 people who attended the funeral two weeks later gave testament to the regard in which Richard and the Mainey family are held.

Phil and I were also amazed at the connections that came to light. In the immediate days after the fire, Phil received a phone call from a dear friend of ours who is the CEO of an Australian non-profit organisation. She had heard rumours that it was Phil who had been lost in the fire, and she immediately began to make plans to come and be with me. (I was so humbled to hear this, as she had canceled important overseas travel plans to do so). She shared with Phil that, unbeknown to us, Richard and his partner, Jo, had been very kind and hospitable to a young couple needing somewhere to stay when they first moved to the Port Macquarie area. It just so happened that the young wife worked as a PA to our friend.

The story then unfolded that this young couple met another husband and wife, Di and Stu, who had met Richard when they were looking for someone to fix their 4WD. They ‘just happened’ to drive past Richard’s workshop and see his old Pajero, which was the same as theirs, sitting out the front. They went into the workshop to inquire if he could direct them to someone who could repair their vehicle. Richard, being the man he was, willingly jumped in to help them and fixed their Pajero. They sensed a deep connection with Richard that day and even had the opportunity to ask how he was doing and to pray for him. They subsequently met Jo, ventured up to the family farm, and began planning camping trips together, but sadly that never eventuated.

At the graveside after the funeral, the two couples approached me to introduce themselves, and to share their connections. Di gave me a little gift of words that Phil and I hold dear.

Many people would call this all coincidence, but for us as believers, it was a gift from God amid our grief.

The ensuing 12 months have been personally challenging for Phil and me in numerous ways. In recent months, I have spent time with three families I hold dear who have lost children in tragic circumstances. I feel so inadequate to express my heart of love for them and yet I know the pain of losing a child and that gives me a measure of understanding. Phil’s amazing mum has walked through enormous loss throughout her adult life, yet still maintains a steadfast faith and trust in the Lord which touches all she knows and meets

A few months after the fire, I returned to the farm. It was an incredible sight to see the changes that had occurred. The charred evidence of the fire that had come so close to also destroying Phil’s mum’s house had been replaced by lush green grass, and a sense of peace had been restored. The old chimney and the iron bathtub are all that remains of the house that Phil called home as a child, but it symbolises the inbuilt tenacity that farming families have to hold on in the face of, at times, overwhelming loss and sorrow.

New growth brings new life. Phil and his nephew and another friend, to whom we owe a great debt of gratitude, fought valiantly to save the house that night 12 months ago and, as I write, we are preparing to move to support Phil’s mum and live nearby. We will stay with her for a time.

More on that new adventure later!

Until next time…