God’s Child
Although raised in a Christian tradition by her mother, it was only to spite her atheist father that Cherie says she attended church. In fact she eventually joined an interscholastic Christian fellowship group in senior highschool for the same reason—an act of rebellion rather than a search for God, she admits, saying, “I honestly don’t think I ever even believed God existed.”
At the end of her schooling, at age 17, Cherie left home to begin a nursing career and two years later married Roger Harrop. She focussed on a flourishing career in emergency nursing, eventually achieving her goals
“But then Roger and I set another goal: to become a mother and father. Over the next seven years Roger and I did everything humanly possible to have a child, but without success. We consulted doctors, had tests and operations. We visited psychics and healers, meditated, used fertility drugs and, eventually, resorted to IVF.
“I felt very cheated. As a woman, I felt a failure. But I recalled Bible stories from my childhood of barren women and how the gift of a child was from God and being childless was a punishment. Thinking that I was being punished made me feel out of control and angry. I was angry enough to start channelling this anger toward God, who was supposed to be in charge. So I did every thing humanly possible to get pregnant—everything but ask the Lord, that is.”
Cherie’s first IVF program failed. She says the failure ripped deep into her psyche, which, combined with the associated drugs and self-pity, took her to a low, dark point.
“I recall sitting in our kitchen staring at a sharp knife that sat on the bench wondering if I could use it to finish my misery and release Roger from his. But I didn’t have enough courage to take my life. It’s quite scary to think that I saw suicide as a courageous act.
“That afternoon, I joked with a friend that I’d sell my soul to the devil to have a child. That night, after yet another irritated phone conversation with Roger, who was in Alice Springs, I knelt down to cry for myself when I noticed a copy of the New Testament on the shelf. I picked it up and just held it in my hands, pressing it tightly. I wanted to hurt the God inside those pages the way He was hurting me.
“I challenged God to prove that He existed. I bargained with Him—actually I demanded He give me a baby—so that I would know He was real. I promised I’d go to church and become a ‘good’ Christian. I recall sobbing into the little white book.
“Well, motherhood arrived seven months later when Rhedigan and Yaszinae were born! I was a mother in every sense. I loved my beautiful children, which I considered to be God-given miracles. But along with motherhood came the perfect excuse to cast the Lord aside: I was too busy!
“God is patient. But every so often He reminded me of my promise. ‘Too busy,’ I’d answer. Besides, I had no idea about what church to attend.”
Cherie and Roger spent the next five years moving house over half the country, eventually settling in Queensland. But she still heard God in her head, and felt Him in her heart, but she ignored that. Then disaster struck.
“We had a big real estate deal going down on Bribie Island. We were selling our investment property and buying the home we were renting. On the day of the sales, our investment property sold but our purchase didn’t and would not settle due to default on the part of the vendor. We were devastated. A week later we decided to move to Noosa, on the Sunshine Coast. We found land near Cooroy, where we built a home.
“We’d already decided that our girls would have a private school education. By chance I spoke with our local day-care owner about a nearby school called Noosa Christian College, operated by the Seventh-day Adventist Church. I was amazed to find that Cooroy actually had its own private primary school and went to visit.
“We loved the school and were impressed with its principal. And the idea of the small prep class and its blonde-headed teacher was wonderful.
“Little did I know then that I had just been introduced to two of the people who were going to become instrumental in my growth as a Christian. Little did I know that the Lord had just led me to my new church—that my awesome God had just shown me the way into His loving arms. God was calling, and this time I answered.
Rhedigan and Yaszinae began attending prep, and each day they came home happy—singing praise songs they’d learned—and asking questions of a spiritual nature and about the church, which, says Cherie, she “wasn’t equipped to answer.”
“So using the Internet, I researched Seventh-day Adventists,” she says, “and I couldn’t believe how much negative stuff there was on the web. I’d met a few of the members and attenders, and they all seemed pretty nice and quite normal. However, my parents were scared for us—Mum was terrified that we were sending our children to a ‘cult school,’ as she put it.
“Next I began researching their beliefs, their concept of the Sabbath, for example. and what it meant. The more I looked, the more I could see that this church did things according to the Bible. But by now the ‘calls’ from God were coming daily. With my new knowledge, I felt could no longer ignore His voice, so I phoned the local Seventh-day Adventist minister.
“I didn’t know what I wanted him to tell me, I just wanted to hear anything he had to say. And when he came to my home, I was immediately at ease. Through Bible study, my new relationship with God developed. I was hungry for His love.
“After a few weeks of Bible study, I cautiously asked the minister if he thought I was ‘ready’ to go to church, which I did. I was overwhelmed by the welcoming love and the joy of the people there, and I experienced genuine affection. At the end of the day’s service, I went home knowing that this was where I belonged, that God had guided me to a safe place.”
And not surprisingly, some nine months later Cherie (pictured) was baptised. “I love the Lord and what He’s done for me,” she confesses. “He died for me.”
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