The answer

Eager to trace the message back to its source, I came up with a plan — one that led somewhere far more specific than I expected.

A plan in the shower

The evening after I had asked Jesus to help me, I thought of the song and the book again. While taking a shower, I realised that so far I had focused only on the big yellow sun on the cover of the book. I began to wonder whether Naomi’s book was more than just a reminder of the song — whether it might actually help me discover where that “It’s all right” message had come from.

Still in the shower, I came up with the following plan: I would find out which company had published the book and then search online to learn more about the publisher. If the publisher turned out to be Christian, I would take that as confirmation that the message had come from Jesus. If the publisher had a New Age, Hindu, Buddhist, Taoist, Muslim or any other background, that too might lead me to the source of the message. I hoped I would not have to change course, but decided to accept whatever the outcome would be.

In hindsight, this was a completely nonsensical plan, but at the time it felt like the right approach.

Keen to find the answer to my question, I quickly finished showering, went to the study, grabbed the book and opened it at the last page, where I read the following: “Rigby, a registered trademark of Reed Educational and Professional Publishing Ltd.” Right underneath it also said: “Origination in Singapore,” which surprised me, given that we’d just made the country our new home.

Having found what I was looking for, I opened Google and searched for Rigby, which indeed led to Reed, which in turn led to another large publishing house, but nothing linked any of the publishers to a particular belief or religion. I kept searching but found nothing.

Almost giving up, I went back to where I started and once more typed in “Rigby.” This time, I did not specifically look for a publishing house but instead browsed the search results. I quickly stumbled upon a link titled “St John Rigby College.” Curious, I typed in “St John Rigby,” and the first link led to a Wikipedia page stating: “Saint John Rigby (ca. 1570 – June 21, 1600) was an English Roman Catholic.”

As it turned out, John Rigby had been executed in England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I because he refused to accept the Church of England. He was a devout Catholic who, when given the chance to recant, refused — twice — and was subsequently executed by hanging. The Catholic Church considered him a Christian martyr, and in October 1970 he was canonised by Pope Paul VI.

The discovery

There it was. A reference to Christianity. I hadn’t expected it to be so clear and specific. And so I concluded: Jesus had sent us the “It’s all right” message.

The moment I accepted that Jesus was the messenger, it became instantly clear what I was supposed to do: get to know Him. It felt like I had been sent on a mission.

Almost immediately, doubts surfaced. Was Jesus real? Could I believe He was? The belief on display in the story of Rigby was the kind of belief worth dying for. Could I believe like that? We’d come frighteningly close to death with Naomi, and it was terrifying. So what made John Rigby so steadfast in his faith? What did he know that I did not? Why was he willing to give up his life for what he believed in? What did he actually believe in?

Then that sense of mission returned, pushing the doubts aside. Coupled with a growing sense of urgency, I set out to get to know Jesus.

The next day, sitting in the study browsing the Internet for information about Jesus, Paulina walked in, looked at my screen and asked what I was doing. "I'm reading up on Jesus," I replied. "Well don't," she said: "Not on this site." Surprised, I asked what the issue was. She told me there were different Christian denominations, all of which centred around Jesus but believed in different things. The Catholic Church, she said, was the oldest and the one she felt most comfortable with.

After a quick search online, I read that there were thousands of Christian denominations, but only one Catholic Church, which is often described as the original universal and pre-denominational Church established by Jesus Christ himself.

I was impressed. Not only had I been directed towards Christianity, it had even been spelled out to me which of those many of churches was the right place for me to get to know Jesus. Paulina handed me an English language Bible she had bought several years ago, and I happily received it.

So there I was, with the Bible on my desk in front of me. “Quite a book,” I thought. “Now where to begin?” Daunted by the thought of starting at page one, I picked it up and opened it at a random page. That page turned out to be the first page of the Gospel of Mark, which, in its very first sentence, revealed the identity of Jesus: the Son of God. So that’s where I started reading.

It took only a few pages for me to realise that I simply could not stop reading. If it hadn’t been for the care Naomi and Sienna needed — and, of course, my work — I would surely have read the entire Gospel of Mark in one go. Instead, I read it slowly, not wanting to miss anything, and found myself drawn into it like no other book I had ever read.

It was an unusual and exciting experience. It felt as though I were there, part of the different scenes, listening to what people said and watching their reactions to Jesus. Many were amazed by what he said and by the miracles he performed. Some passages were familiar to me, but never before had they made such an impact. This time, it was as if something inside me had been switched on, allowing the Gospel to truly reach me and enabling me to absorb everything I read.

The best parts were those where Jesus spoke. Listening to him I loved most. The way he talked greatly impressed me. He had compassion for those in need; he was sharp and wise, composed, and always knew exactly how to respond to the cunning questions of those trying to trap him. He knew people’s thoughts, looked straight into their hearts, was keenly aware of what lay ahead, and spoke with undeniable authority. I quickly developed a great fondness for him.

When I was not reading the Gospel, I was thinking about it. Much like the Here Comes the Sun tune that had stayed with me, the Gospel followed me like a shadow. I remembered a conversation I’d had at school many years earlier, when someone asked who I’d meet if I could travel through time. If someone were to present me with a time machine today, I would go back to meet Jesus without hesitation.

I felt excitement, but that was not the main emotion the Gospel stirred in me. Beneath it was a deep sense of peace — a peace that drove out the anxiety caused by our doubts about Naomi’s recovery and the ongoing struggles of caring for her. Each time I read the Gospel, I felt calm. It was the same calmness I had felt before, but now without the unease. No longer doubting it, I allowed it to envelop me. When immersed in the Gospel, it felt as though I could sense Jesus’ presence: calm, loving, and safe.

Over time, it became clear to me that clairvoyance, Reiki, BodyTalk and the other New Age practices had each filled a void, yet left me empty. They offered no peace — in fact, they increased my anxiety. What I came to understand through the Gospel was that God is not an impersonal source of energy, nor some anonymous higher being, and certainly not a God who must be appeased or kept at bay.

God had revealed himself through Jesus. Not by suddenly descending from heaven, but by being born of a woman, becoming a vulnerable baby, growing up, and experiencing life as we do. This was not a God who dwelled far away and out of reach. In Jesus, God lived among us so that we could know him.

I came to see that God knows exactly what it means to be human. When Mark described Jesus experiencing deep distress before being handed over to be crucified, I knew he understood the anxiety and fear we live with. It became clear to me that God wanted to be with us — to take care of us and look after us — if only we allowed him to do so. Despite still being in the midst of a storm, this gave me peace.

I still had many questions, though. In fact, after reading the Gospel of Mark, I had more questions than before. I believed the Gospel, and I believed that Jesus was real, but I didn't yet know what to do next. How could I reach out to him? How could I connect? Questions kept surfacing, and I was eager to find the answers.

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Next: The confirmation