Salvos group a lifeline for Lauren and her best friend Honey
- deansimpson7
- Jul 1
- 6 min read
BY LERISSE SMITH
Lauren Barns never imagined that one horrible rainy night and a twist of fate would dramatically change the course of her life forever.
Almost 12 years ago, a catastrophic accident at Melbourne’s Indented Head left her fighting for her life.
For reasons still unknown, Lauren’s car crashed into the side of a house, causing the wall to collapse onto her vehicle – and her head. The force of the impact left her critically injured and barely clinging to life. She was airlifted from the scene by helicopter in a race against time.
“I nearly died a number of times,” she recalled of the fateful night. “And not just from the accident, but while I was in hospital, too. I am very, very lucky to be here.”
No one could have predicted Lauren would survive such a horrific event. But she did. However, her long recovery would involve multiple surgeries, rehabilitation and countless therapy sessions. The accident also left her legally blind.
And with survival also came heartbreak.
“I lost all my friends after the accident, which is really sad,” she said. “So many people came to visit me while I was unconscious at the time ... Mum said they all came to say goodbye as they thought I was going to pass away. But nobody wanted to catch up after I got out.”
In that void, her occupational therapists looked for meaningful ways to help Lauren reconnect with friendship and community – and one life-changing suggestion set her on a new path.
They discovered Ashy Salvos House Church.
Walking into the building on the first night marked a significant step forward for Lauren. It was a place that felt completely different from any church she had known growing up.
“Everyone at Ashy House Church was so welcoming. It was amazing. And the pop-up dinner is always a winner!” Lauren reflected.
“I grew up going to church and never liked church. It was always a chore. You had to get dressed in nice clothes, and because I never really fitted in, I never made friends. But coming here (to Ashy House), everyone is friends. It’s like a big family. Ashy House Church gives me something to look forward to each week.”
The warmth of the friendship and fellowship drew her in instantly.
She recounted walking through the door and being greeted with a big hello from a friendly lady who then invited her out the next weekend with her family and drove her home – an act of kindness that stuck with Lauren.
It also prompted her to ensure that next time she saw a new face, she would make a beeline for them, making sure they felt welcome too. In the years since she joined Ashy House, the church has become more than a place of worship. It has become her anchor.
“This is my church now,” she says. “Everyone supports and encourages each other. It truly is lovely.”
The sense of belonging has also helped her blossom in ways she never expected.
Lauren shared how she had always been shy and introverted. But thanks to the “chatty and lovely” church members, they have helped her come out of her shell and become more social.
And her Christian faith, once obligatory, is now freely expressed and shared in the Tuesday night gatherings and in tender, personal moments with God.
“When I was lying in the hospital bed after the accident, not able to really move or do anything, the thing that got me through the whole hospital experience was God,” she emphasised.
“Praying silently and music got me through – music is incredible. My parents gave me my iPod and earplugs, and somehow, I was able to scroll through the music albums. Praying also got me through. It gave me much more hope. I had someone there beside me. I wasn’t lonely because I knew God was always by my side. Now I feel God is with me when I meet with others at Ashy House Church, too.”
Love has also taken on a new meaning and grown deeper since the accident.
Speaking of her family with gratitude, Lauren highlighted how they supported her through her life-changing ordeal and the toughest of days. They held a bedside vigil when she lay in hospital.
“I would wake up in hospital and they were just there,” she said. “They were there to support me all the time. They sat by my bed for hours and hours while I was unconscious, just holding my hand and waiting for me to wake up. My love for my family has certainly grown. Love is so much more important to me now than ever.”
Best friend
But it’s not just people who have helped reclaim her independence and joy – there is also a new best friend, Honey.
Honey, her Guide Dog, came into her life in November last year, and with the Golden Labrador came a new and profound sense of freedom.
“Honey is my best friend and my everything!” Lauren said, her voice brimming with affection. “I can’t imagine loving her any more than I already do. She really is my whole world, and I will do anything to make sure she is happy.”
Honey did not just help Lauren navigate the physical world – she opened doors, literally and metaphorically. The first outing with Honey was a memorable one.
Lauren recalled being at a busy shopping centre where the crowds literally parted for them both. It was an “awesome” moment, she reflected. However, when well-meaning people often asked to pat Honey, she had to explain that Honey was a working dog and not able to be patted for the safety of both herself and the dog. A sign on Honey’s special handle also ensures the message is clear.
Though life with a Guide Dog is freeing, it hasn't been without challenges.
Lauren has faced illegal and disheartening discrimination, being denied entry to two cafés because of her Guide Dog. Despite these setbacks, the pair have persevered, and now with driving no longer an option, Lauren is navigating public transport with Honey by her side.
“It is so freeing to be able to go anywhere,” she said. “I’m unable to drive now, so I have to rely on public transport. But Honey has made all the difference.”
Before her precious Guide Dog came onto the scene, she used a white cane, cheekily known as ‘Michael Caine,’ to navigate getting around. Humour, and even dark humour at times, have been critical, especially during the tough times of life.
“It can be dark because of what I have been through,” she explained. “But that is what has got me through the hard times.”
Outside of church and Honey, Lauren finds solace in creativity, especially the arts.
An art therapy class on Wednesday mornings at Amaroo Neighbourhood House, where participants have some form of disability, has given great joy. Adding to the delight of creating artworks of all sorts was winning first prize at an art show with a beautiful painting based on a photo of her Japanese Nanna. “I’m quarter Japanese!” she adds proudly.
Looking to the future, the talented artist has great optimism and ambition.
Now with more clarity about what brings her joy, Lauren hopes to return to study in the future especially as she once started a double degree in art and science. Ideally, she would like to work with animals and incorporate her love of the arts, too.
Before the accident, life was filled with independence – she was the first of her siblings to move out of home, to have a boyfriend, to chart her own course. Step by step, she’s now rebuilding the independence that time and circumstance once took away: “Along with my therapy team, my main goal now is moving out of my parents’ home and becoming independent yet again.”
And Ashy House Church remains a steady and vital presence in her journey, not just as a place of faith, but as a living community one, where fellowship isn’t formal but lived out in hugs, shared meals, exploring God's Word, and interwoven life experiences.
“I really do look forward to Tuesday nights at Ashy House – it’s a highlight and essential date in my weekly calendar,” Lauren concluded. “It has helped turn my life around, given me hope for the future – and may it continue to change lives for a long time to come.”
