Walking on water...

This morning, I was reading in the New Testament, in Matthew chapter 14. The second half of the chapter contains the well known story of Jesus and Peter walking on the water.

So much had happened before that point: they got the news of John the Baptist's death, then Jesus taught crowds of people all day and the disciples found themselves with the task of feeding fish and bread to thousands of people in a remote location. After that, while sailing back across the lake, they found themselves in a frightening storm... and suddenly they thought that they saw a ghost!

I don't know if they vaguely recognised Jesus walking towards them on the water and started to think that He was dead... or whether there was no recognition until He said to them, "Don't be afraid.... I am here." (vs 27)

Bereavement, tiredness, crisis, fear, uncertainty... this was the backdrop to Peter's walking on the water.

The story is well known: as long as Peter kept his eyes on Jesus, he was doing fine. More than fine, he was experiencing a miracle, something impossible. But when he focused on the wind and waves, he was terrified and began to sink.

As I read the story, it struck me that I have experienced some similar pressures this year:

• bereavement and other losses
• tiredness from moving house so often
• the crises of homelessness and illness
• uncertainty about the right decision and the right way forward

And amidst these "storm factors," I'm contemplating stepping out and buying a home! Walking on water... as home owning feels so uncertain and out of reach. Something within me is saying like Peter, "Is that really You, Lord?" (vs 28) And another part of me is intimidated by how little I know about the process of buying or owning a home.

But if I'm going to step "out of the boat,' I need to keep my eyes on Jesus and not on the circumstances. I need to activate my faith, I need to say, "Save me, Lord," and I need to keep worshipping Him (vs 33) for who He is. 
 

From heaven to homeless...

Christmas is still quite a few weeks away, but this morning I was reading a devotional that made me think of the Advent season that lies ahead. The featured verse was 2 Corinthians 8 vs 9: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, for your sakes He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich."

It's one of the mysteries of the incarnation - that God Himself, the Creator and Owner of the universe, left the splendour of heaven and came to live a humble life among mankind on earth. He was born in a stable because there was "no room" at the inn. His earthly parents were simple people; we would probably describe them as "poor." Yet Jesus' material poverty opened the way for each one of us to experience spiritual riches.

For most of my life, I've lived on very little. I remember when I started out as a missionary, I needed to raise £150 to live on and I trusted God to give me 15 partners who would each support me with £10 a month. For many years in Africa, right up to 2007, I lived on an income of £200 a month... and yet I never felt "poor" or in need. I lived simply, I was never in need, and God even provided a nice car when I needed one.

It's only been this year, for the first time, that I've felt the weight of being "poor." It's not that I've been destitute or starving; I've always had enough to eat, I still have a nice car and I even have some savings in the bank... but losing my home this year confronted me with the sober reality that I simply didn't have enough income to rent a new place to live. Even the most humble accommodation came with a price tag that was considerably higher than my total monthly income. And when I plucked up the courage to investigate the option of buying instead of renting, I discovered that my budget would restrict me to looking in "poor" areas... like the neighbourhoods typically inhabited by gypsies and travellers.    

So it kind of caught my attention when I read in the devotional this morning that Jesus "lived as a homeless man for years." It wasn't that Jesus was sleeping in the street, like a down and out, but it's certainly true that He did spend the latter years of His life dependent on the hospitality of others. He Himself described it as having "nowhere to lay His head." What a radical commitment He made in order to reconcile us with the Father.

I've only experienced that homelessness in a small way this year, and it's been humbling; I've felt very vulnerable at times. For the first time in my life, I feel "poor" and without resources... and yet I know that my Heavenly Father created and owns the entire universe. All I can do is trust that my life is in His care, just as He cared for His own Son when He was here on earth.

Launching a wave...

During the last ten days of October, I was in Albania for the annual regional gatherings of KKI Europe. Four days with our regional leadership team (ELT) were followed by two days with KKI national leaders from across the continent, and then by three days with a larger gathering of young and old. 

Our theme for this KKI gathering was "Launch the Wave,” and we sought God’s heart for how to launch the next big wave of missionaries to take the gospel to the nations of Europe. 

It was interesting to remember how Loren Cunningham (recently deceased founder of Youth with a Mission) when he was only 20 years old had a vision of waves of young people - "my age and younger" - taking the gospel to the nations of the earth.  So it was fitting that more than two thirds of the participants at our KKI gathering were under 25 years of age, and the remaining third was people aged 25 - 70. 

We had some extended times of worship, prayer and ministry, as well as looking ahead to exciting outreach initiatives that will be held in 2024 and 2025. We expect to send many teams to France during the Olympic Games next year, and to have another SHINE event, possibly in the UK, during 2025.

The power of community - for good or bad

 

Recently I was reading the biblical account of a man called Job. If you’ve heard a little of his story, you’ll know that he suffered a great many losses and challenges at one point in his life. Even though Job mistakenly believed that it was God who was causing all these bad things to happen in his life, he showed amazing resilience at first, choosing to bless and trust God instead of blaming Him.

What made it all just too much for him to bear, however, was when a few of his so-called friends came on the scene. Perplexed by the terrible things that were happening to Job, these four men began to judge and criticise him. “God must be punishing you for your sin,” they told him. “Bad things don’t happen to good people.”

Seeing the way that these men’s words wounded and discouraged Job got me reflecting on the power of community and the incredible power of our words - both for good and for bad.

Most of us have faced hard situations in life where we felt that we just weren’t able to make it on our own. Often the thing that helps us to keep going and not give up is the prayers and support, help and encouragement of others who rally round in our time of need. Even the Beatles recognised this in the well known 1967 song, “I can get by with a little help from my friends.”

But community can have a negative effect on us too - like when we see teenagers who are influenced by peer pressure into drinking and drugs … or young people who get caught up in some sort of sect or cult that makes them feel loved and valuable but leads them down a wrong path.

The Bible says in Proverbs 18: 21 that the words we speak have the power of life and death…. and each one of us can choose which kind of words we speak to (and about) others.

I’ve seen these two forces at work even during these past months of being homeless. A considerable number of people have written to me or phoned me to share Bible verses and words of encouragement. Those words have been life-giving, infusing me with the strength to persevere in an extremely difficult and stressful time.

Sometimes, though, I’ve heard on the grapevine that someone is judging and criticising my decision to stay in Spain and keep trusting God for a breakthrough. Such people no doubt feel that my time as a missionary may be over, and that I should therefore not try to stay in Spain any more. It’s hard to describe the sense of discouragement that comes from learning that people are saying such things behind your back. Somehow, a bit like Job experienced, it makes an already challenging situation feel even heavier to bear.

I’m not speaking about people who’ve written to me and honestly raised the question of whether I should be considering leaving Spain. That kind of question is good and necessary, and I’m actually very thankful for the people who have had the courage to ask me that. What’s hard is when you become aware that people are judging you for seeking to be faithful and obedient to God… but they’ve never spoken to you directly about what you and others are hearing from the Lord.

When we read the word “you” in the New Testament, it’s often plural. We don’t always realise that if we’re reading in English. The Bible is full of “one another” scriptures: about loving one another, bearing one another’s burdens, forgiving one another, encouraging one another, exhorting one another, serving one another … The concept of community is deeply embedded in the biblical understanding of living by faith. So it’s kind of sobering to realise that we in Christian community can make life’s hard times a little lighter for others …. or we can make them a little heavier. I am incredibly thankful for the people who pray for me - exhorting or encouraging me on a regular basis.

Who represents “community” for you  in your present context? And what are you doing this week or this month to strengthen and encourage them for the road ahead?

When you're in the middle of the story...

This morning I found myself reflecting on what it's like to be "in the middle of the story." When we read the real life stories of Bible characters, we know the accounts so well that we're already well aware of what will happen in the last chapter. 

So, when we read about Joseph being sold into slavery, falsely accused and languishing for many long years in prison... we already know that one day he is going to become governor of the whole nation.

When we read about the Israelites spending 400 years in slavery in Egypt, or 70 years in exile in Babylon... we already know that one day they will return to their promised land.

When we read about David being hunted down by jealous King Saul who wants to kill him... we already know that some fifteen years later he himself will become King of Israel.

When we read of Jesus suffering on the cross, and His dead body being placed in the garden tomb... we already know that He is going to rise from the dead and be alive for evermore.

So we read these stories without ever experiencing the devastating physical and emotional pain that these people experienced when they were still "in the middle of the story."

It's a bit different when you're reading a novel or watching a movie. Unless you flip the pages to the last chapter, or fast forward to the end of the film, you find yourself caught up in the devastation and uncertainty of what the protagonist is facing. You simply don't know yet how the story is going to end and so you experience more of the drama or danger that the character is going through.

This morning, reading in the New Testament letter to the Hebrews, I came to the part where the writer urges the believers not to "throw away" their confident trust in the Lord (Heb 10:35) but to hold on tightly, without wavering, to our hope that God can be trusted to fulfill His promises. (Heb 10:23) Of course, it's speaking about our hope of salvation... but I couldn't help seeing the parallels with the challenging situation I've found myself in this year.

Hebrews 10 verse 36 (pictured above) really stood out to me this morning: Patient endurance is what you need, so that you will continue to do God's will. Then you will receive all that He has promised. Throughout this whole year, I have sought to do God's will. Despite not being able to find a place to live, I have persevered here, believing that He was prompting me to stay in Spain and not to "throw away"my right to residency here. But it has grown harder and harder as each month has gone by. It's excruciating not to be able to visit Scotland and help out my family at this time. It's been agonising to have to cancel all my ministry plans that involved any kind of travel. We're three quarters of the way through the year and the end is still not in sight. I'm still in the middle chapters of the story and I can't fast forward or flip to the last chapter to find out how it's all going to end.

As hard as it is, all I can do is: 

• pray for patient endurance
• continue to do God's will to the best of my understanding
• trust that, in the last chapter, I'll see God prove His faithfulness as He did for all the people in those Bible stories.

 Read on in the post below where I reflect on the mystery of the recent seaside apartment chapter.

Wondering about why...

I've always believed that we shouldn't make too big a habit of asking God why some things are happening. While there is sometimes truth in the old saying that, "All things happen for a reason," I equally believe that sometimes there is no why. 

Some things do happen for a purpose, and God doesn't have a problem when we ask Him for understanding of why a certain thing is happening or what result He wants to bring out of that situation. I've done that several times this year. But especially when it comes to the hard things in life (why someone got cancer or was in a car accident, or was robbed when walking home at night...) sometimes they're just a symptom of the fact that we live in a complex, fallen and sinful world. They're not necessarily part of some huge cosmic plan.

So the, "Why me?" question is one that I've not tended to ask much. I'd be more likely to ask God questions like:

• What are you doing in this situation?
• What do you want to teach me through this?
• How do you want to turn this situation around, or what result do you want to bring from these circumstances?

This week, however, I've been asking the why question - about the recent perplexing chapter of the Fuengirola apartment. The way it happened: a complete stranger coming into church, hearing my preaching and offering me a place to stay for a few months... it really seemed as if this could be something from the Lord. But, if you read my most recent blog post, you'll know that the whole arrangement fell through.... just two days before I was due to move there.

So, what was all that about? Why, Lord, would you allow that weird and seemingly fruitless episode to feature in the middle chapters of my story?

As I reflect prayerfully on that question, I think of all that I did during those two weeks that the apartment looked like the medium term way forward: I unpacked some of my things (winter clothes, etc) that had been in storage for six months, I was able to confirm some travel plans that I'd been putting on hold for a long time...

And I could see in retrospect that the many months of "not knowing" had paralysed me in various ways. I wasn't able to make plans for next month or the month after because I often didn't even know where I would be the next week. This was particularly true in the area of being able to travel... to be with family in Scotland or to fulfill ministry commitments that had been made before I knew I'd be homeless.

Thinking I had a stable place for a few months, I was able to book my tickets to Albania (for our annual KKI Europe gathering), I was able to start planning a visit back to Scotland, and those who'd invited me to teach in a training course in France were able to book my tickets for me. I would never have been able to confirm those trips if I hadn't thought I had a place to leave my things while I was gone.

Well, that solution wasn't to be, but - as you may have read below - I do have a different and better medium term solution until January. I don't claim to have full understanding of how God was working in this perplexing situation, but I can see how He used it to draw me out of being "stuck" and help me to start being able to plan a little bit ahead again.

I'm still in the middle of the story, I still don't know how it will end, but I'm "on the move" now in more ways than what I've been experiencing for the past six months. 
 

What a roller coaster week!

If you read the blog post before this one and received my October newsletter last weekend, you'll know that I was thanking the Lord for the provision of a seaside apartment that would give me a stable base for the next few months. After six months of moving around every few weeks, I could finally unpack some of my things (like winter clothing) and get some boxes ready for moving to Fuengirola tomorrow.

Imagine my complete shock, then, when I got a phone call yesterday to tell me that the little apartment was no longer available. Reading between the lines, the lady's extended family may have objected to the idea of my living there, and she simply told me apologetically that the family needed it over the winter in order to have someone look after the 94 year old mother who lives in the same building.

Suddenly, I was once again only two days away from being homeless.... and had no idea what I could do to find a place at two days' notice. All I could do was ask people to pray.

The good news is that my friends in Coín (where I was dog sitting during July) have once again offered me the little "casita" on their property. They only have Air BnB guests up until November 5th, and so after that I can rent the two-roomed cottage (pictured above) from November to January, while I continue to search for something more permanent.

The bad news is that I don't have a place to stay during the first half of October before I leave for Albania on the 20th. Some friends have offered me a few days here and there, so I may end up moving around a bit. And I'll need a place for five or six days when I return to Spain at the end of the month. 

But I am thankful that I can rent the little apartment in Coín for the same amount of time that I was expecting to rent the apartment in Fuengirola. I can even leave Maiki there over Christmas, if needed, as the couple love her and she gets on well with their boxer, Bilbo.

In the meantime, I continue to search and pray for something long term.