A new year... a new adventure...

A new year has just begun. None of us really know what it holds in store for us, but I find security in the fact that the God I follow does know what lies ahead; I can enter the new year without fear or worry if I am walking hand in hand with Him. As I was praying on the first day of 2023, I felt that the Lord told me this year would bring me some challenges and losses, but also some times of unexpected joy. I believe He showed me that the key to walking in joy, even amidst the sorrows and losses, is to walk in intentional thankfulness. So, in my journal, I'm regularly writing down the things that I am thankful for.

Have you ever wondered why the URL of this blog is "back in Europe"? It's because I lived in Africa for almost 15 years and I began writing this new blog in the very month when I moved back to Europe. Now I've been "back in Europe" for 15 years. Sometimes I can hardly believe that I have lived in Spain for almost the same amount of time that I lived in South Africa!

I haven't written much on this blog over the past two years, choosing to communicate more on other social media platforms instead. But I'm coming into a new season of change and transition, and so I invite you to join me, and to pray with me, as I embark on a new adventure.

Read on below to find out more about the new adventure for 2023.

Not knowing what lies ahead...

When this blog first began, I was "homeless." I had just left the home I had built in South Africa, and I had no clue what lay ahead or where I would live back in Europe. Scroll down and click on those early links on the right hand side of this page. The blog posts for September and October 2007 were full of the uncertainty of not knowing what lay ahead or where my new home would be.

Before I left South Africa, I had felt that God spoke to me through a verse in Exodus 15: 27 - about how the people settled down in a place that had “twelve springs and 70 palm trees.” I had kind of a sense that it was something to do with where I would live back in Europe, but no real understanding of what it might mean. A year went by as I trusted for God's guidance and provision; then ministry opportunities led me to move to Spain and settle in the town of Alhaurín de la Torre. The name of the town comes from Arabic and means, "garden of God."

Imagine my surprise, after I’d already moved to Alhaurín, to discover that the town had been famous historically for its underground springs of water…. and that the little park around the corner from my home had exactly 70 palm trees in it. Was it just a weird coincidence or was God confirming that I had settled in the right place?  

I've now lived in Alhaurín de la Torre for 14 years, and the town has become home to me. For 13 of those years, I have lived in the same house (the longest I have lived in one place during my decades as a missionary) and I have built lots of friendships in the neighbourhood as I've reached out to share God's love with my neighbours who don't know the Lord.

At first, I rented the house with a South American friend and her daughter. Then, when they moved out to start a home of their own, my generous landlord allowed me to continue living in the house and to continue paying only half of the rent, as I had done up till then. (I see this as a miracle of God's provision, because the full rent was more than my total monthly income, and it would have been impossible for me to stay there.)

That amazing season has come to an end. My landlord has other plans for the house in 2023 and has told me that I will need to move out within the next two months. After thirteen wonderful years, I now find myself "homeless" again, and am beginning the process of looking for a new place to live.

So I begin 2023 not knowing where I'm going to be living this year. Read on below to discover some of the faith challenges that this adventure brings.

Expecting the impossible...

One of the intergenerational outreach teams I led with KKI in South Africa had the theme of, "Expect the Impossible!" Even though it was a long time ago, I still have my team T-shirt from that time of summer evangelism.

 "Expect the Impossible" had to become kind of a motto for me when I moved back to Europe. You see, during my last decade in South Africa, I had lived on a regular income of around £200 a month. It was a unique window of time where prices were low in South Africa; the currency was decreasing in value and the favourable exchange rate of the pound to the rand meant that my missions support didn’t really need to increase for that whole decade.  When I returned to Europe in 2007, it was a huge shock to realise that no one can live on just £200 a month in a European setting. I would need to see my income double or even triple in order to be able to move to Spain and find a home there in 2008. Not only would the rent alone be more than my total income at the time, most rental houses were unfurnished and so I would also need enough money to furnish the place.

Yesterday, 1st January 2023, I had a sinking sense of déjà vu as I began the process of scrolling through estate agents' websites in search of a new place to stay. Even the tiniest of places (one-roomed "studios" with no separate bedroom or kitchen) have a rental cost that is more than my current monthly income! I realised that my landlord's incredible generosity over the past seven or eight years has given me a completely false impression of the true costs of housing.

A Spanish friend told me it's generally cheaper to buy than to rent. Of course, that would be a total impossibility on my income - and, even if I did have more income, it's impossible to get a mortgage when you're in your sixties. But I took a look at houses for sale, anyway, just to confirm if my friend's information was true. 

Well, it probably is true, but my sense of impossibility only increased even further when I saw that a one bedroom flat in Alhaurín would cost the same as a three bedroom house in South Africa.

And so, here I am again - setting off on an adventure of expecting God to do the impossible. I don't know what that will look like. (Will I amazingly find another home with a fairly low rent? Will God provide money in another way? Will there be a new housemate to share costs?) I have no idea what to expect. All I know is that I can trust God as I set out on this new adventure.

Watch this space!

A holiday in the mountains...

After spending quite a bit of the summer with a terrible cough, it was a joy this month, September, to be able to take a few days holiday and travel into the mountains - some four hours drive northwards to the Sierra de Cazorla.

My friend Sue, visiting from England, went on the trip with me and we took the dog with us, leaving the cat in the care of my neighbour. Thunderstorms and heavy rains had been forecast for the mountain sierras last week, which was potentially a big disappointment for us, as one reason for our trip was to do a famous hiking trail along the gorge of the Borosa river.

But, in the end, the weather was absolutely perfect and we had a wonderful time with warm sunny weather throughout.

We stayed two nights in a little wooden cabin at the Montillana campground, next to El Tranco reservoir, and then we moved to the El Cerrillo cabins, situated among olive groves and closer to the town of Cazorla.

On our first full day in the mountains, we were able to do our planned hike along the River Borosa, where the scenery was absolutely stunning and the sound of the trickling river with its many little waterfalls was so relaxing. We'd decided in advance that we probably couldn't do the full 22 kilometre hike up the canyon to a mountain lake and waterfall, but had been told that it was around 4½ km to the part of the route where wooden walkways took the trail through the narrowest part of the river gorge. It turned out to be somewhat further than that, however, and so our whole walk ended up being 17½ km - the longest walk of Maiki's life so far. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if Maiki ran about 25 km that day, as she constantly ran back and forward along the forest trail, dipping in and out of the river to drink and to cool down.

The next day, after moving to our new cabin, we did another hike through a river canyon, but much shorter this time - just under 3 km. The Cerrada del Utrero was a short walk above the Guadalquivir river, with towering rocky crags where eagles and vultures circled high above us. Sue is an avid birdwatcher, and so she had her binoculars glued to her eyes as we made the short circuit through the canyon and back around the mountain.

During our trip, we visited the little Sierra towns of Cazorla, La Iruela and Arroyo Frío, as well as the small city of Baeza. On Sunday, we drove home again, through lovely mountain scenery in the Sierra Mágina and the Sierra Nevada.

It was a lovely break and we are really thankful to the Lord for the beautiful creation, the perfect weather, and for safety on the roads as I drove almost a thousand kilometres in total.

You can click on the photo below to see a one-minute video of our River Borosa hike, especially the part known as the Cerrada de Elías, where wooden walkways allow you to walk "above" the flowing river for a couple of hundred metres through the narrow river canyon.

 

Dancing and hiking...

After our KKI outreach preparation camp in Poland this summer, teams went out all over Europe to share God's love, to work with refugees, etc. I returned to Spain after the camp and unfortunately found myself with both bronchitis and covid by the time I arrived home. The post-bronchitis cough seemed to drag on for a long time, but finally began to dissipate by the end of August - which allowed me to make a two day trip to the beautiful Alpujarra region of Spain.

I went there with my dog, Maiki, as we had signed up to participate in a dog dancing workshop. (You may have seen dog dance acts on programmes like Britain's Got Talent.) It was a lot of fun and I enjoyed being able to make just a beginning in this canine sport. I've always enjoyed watching the international canine freestyle (dog dancing) afternoons of Crufts dog show.

We stayed overnight in the little spa town of Lanjarón, which gives its name to a well known brand of bottled water. This allowed us to take a short walk to the old Moorish castle, which wasn't far from our hotel. The mountain air seemed to do me good and I wasn't coughing quite as much as over the previous five weeks.

The next day, when our dance workshop finished, we made a short drive to the little village of Nigüelas, from where we wanted to do a lovely walk called the Paseo de la Pavilla. The trail wound its way around the edge of the mountain, running sometimes alongside the river and sometimes next to the old irrigation ditches. From the end of the trail, we took a detour uphill to a lovely little waterfall. (I love waterfalls, but we hadn't had an opportunity to get to one this year, so that was a special treat.)

Before driving back home to Malaga, Maiki and I were able to take just fifteen minutes for a swim in the Beznár reservoir. That was another treat, as my annoying cough meant that it had been many weeks since we'd been able to enjoy a refreshing dip to cool off in the hot summer weather. All in all, it was a very enjoyable two days' break.
 

Movie magic...

 Over the summer months, Maiki and a few of her trick dog team mates have had fun putting together this compilation of "classic movies." Your all time favourite film may not have made our list this time, but Teddi, Maiki and a team of international guest stars are proud to present a Pet's Perspective on Classic Movies of the past decades. Just click on the photo to watch the video.

Maiki meets the wolf...

It's a rite of passage. Sooner or later, all of the dogs get to make their first ascent to the wolf's lookout: that viewpoint on top of the mountain that separates Alhaurín de la Torre from the coastal towns of Torremolinos and Benalmádena.

We weren't able to do it last year because Maiki was too small at the beginning of summer to take such a long walk. Then, for the rest of the year, any kind of uphill route was forbidden to us in the aftermath of her fractured knee.

This morning, however, a combination of a light morning schedule and a cooler temperature than in recent days (less than 30 degrees) made it possible for us to set off at daybreak and head up the mountain, reaching the summit before the sun had time to burn its way through the clouds.

It meant that the coastal views were perhaps less stunning than on a bright sunny day... and it was too hazy for us to spot the North African coastline, but at least we weren't burning up on our homeward descent, and the four dogs could enjoy a good run on the mountain.

It was even kind of windy on the mountaintop (note the jumper)... very invigorating. With two years of pandemic behind us, it was a special treat to be able to introduce the new generation to our local friend, the wolf.