Happy Mother's Day

The Norwegians had their Mothers' Day while we were there in February, and most of Europe will celebrate it in mid-May, but tomorrow is Mothers' Day in Scotland, where my Mum lives. Happy Mothers' Day to you, Mum, and to other mothers in the UK this weekend.

Meanwhile, back in Spain, Mama Tamba is being kept very busy. The kittens are four weeks old tomorrow and, having recently found their legs, are beginning to scurry and stumble around all over the place. I'm kind of sorry that I'll miss the next two weeks of cuteness, but Sue will be playing grandma while I'm away in the Netherlands for two weeks. Here's a picture of the proud Mama with one of the month-old babies. 

Of disks and diagnoses...

Well, thanks for your prayers. I saw the doctor again today, and the good news is that the disk isn't torn like it was three years ago. I won't need to spend any time in bed, and it won't prevent me from travelling to the Netherlands next weekend.

The doctor scared me at first, though. When she held my x-rays up to the light, she looked at me and just said, "Lo siento mucho," (which means "I'm really sorry.") Then she went on to tell me that I have chronic arthritis - together with a form of lumbar degenerative disc disease - and that all of the disks she could see were affected.

"Lo siento mucho," she repeated two or three times. Basically, there's nothing that can really be done at this stage, other than taking painkillers when it's unbearable, and trying to get plenty of non-weight-bearing exercise, like swimming, so that the surrounding muscles are kept as strong as possible.

Of course, I already knew that I had some form of arthritis; two doctors in South Africa had given me this diagnosis at the time when I was experiencing so much pain from an old neck injury. But I had seen a huge improvement in mobility and a considerable decrease in pain during 2007... and so it was rather disappointing to be reminded today that the condition of my spine still seems to be deteriorating. (During my last year in Cape Town, I needed to take painkillers almost every day; in contrast, I've only needed to take them a handful of times over the past eighteen months.)

The good news, however, is that I don't need to worry that I'm causing further damage by sitting too long (it often hurts when I sit) or by lifting my suitcase at the airport. I am thankful to the Lord that it isn't as much of a handicap now as it was just a few years ago, and I can only pray that it won't continue to degenerate too quickly. Thanks again for your prayers as I travel over the next few weeks.

Secrets and lies...

We watched an impacting film this week: The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. It's the story of a little boy, the son of a Nazi kommandant, who strikes up a friendship across the barbed wire fence with a little Jewish boy in an extermination camp. In case you haven't watched it yet, I won't give away the end of the story, but the movie is an interesting study of the nature of prejudice... and rather a graphic illustration of how keeping secrets from those closest to you can ultimately destroy them and lead to the loss of everything that you really care about.

The film-makers had made much use of vertical stripes - in the fence, on the banisters, in the trees of the forest, and in the uniforms of the camp inmates - to highlight the idea that secrets and lies can hold us prisoner just as much as prison bars can. It made me think again of the words that Jesus said in John 8 vs 32 - that if we know the truth, the truth will set us free.

Healthy Development

Thanks for your prayers while I was in Barcelona. I'm pleased to report that my disk injury didn't cause any trouble while I was there. It's still a little painful, though, so I'll try to rest it a bit more this week.

The seminar went well, and it was a privilege for me to be able to reach and influence Spanish families in this way. The short time available allowed us only to give a brief introduction to the vast area of understanding human development, and so they've asked if I could perhaps come back some time in the future to offer a longer seminar on this topic.

I've always been fascinated by the fact that God's plan for our healthy development as human beings seems to be the same, no matter what country or culture you are in. Whether you are in Africa or Asia, in Britain or in Spain, children develop in the same way and have the same needs at their different stages of growing up. As we understand these ages and stages, we can be more effective in sharing God's love and truth with them.

When I lived in Cape Town, and we got our two border collie puppies just fifteen months apart, we watched the similarities in their growing up and we used to joke that we would soon be able to give seminars on canine development too. Now, thanks to Tamba, I may soon be able to add feline development to my repertoire!! Did you know that newborn kittens double their birth weight during the first week of their life? They're typically around 3 - 4 ounces (100g) at birth, and have reached around 200g by the end of the first week. So it was kind of cute to come back home after Barcelona and see that the new babies were slowly beginning to look like cats and not just fur-balls. By next week, their eyes should be open and they will be beginning to stand up.

Recently I was reading the New Testament letter to the Hebrews. In chapter 5 vs 11-14 and chapter 6 vs 1, we see that God doesn't only have a plan for our physical development, but He cares about our healthy spiritual development too. He doesn't want us to be spiritual "babies" for our whole lives, but wants us to grow in knowing Him, understanding the Bible, hearing and obeying God's voice.  As we spend time with Him and read His Word regularly, He will help us to "grow up" in a healthy way and reach maturity in our relationship with Him.

Happy Birthday (Midwife at Midnight)

Over this past weekend, we've been celebrating the first "birthday" of our new church, the Centro Cristiano de Alhaurín. One leader commented that life with a baby church is not unlike life with a one year old child: we have a name now and we're getting to know our unique identity, we're learning how to walk and take steps of faith, we're getting to know the members of our family better, and we're very much in love with our (heavenly) Dad. This weekend was a time of giving thanks to God for all that He has done in and through us over the past year... and also a time of considering one or two words that He is giving us about our future steps as a family of believers in this town and this nation.

Little did I suspect that a different kind of "birthday" was awaiting me when we arrived home from church last night. Tamba was waiting for us on the doorstep and, as soon as we got indoors, she went upstairs to my bedroom and started to miaow and cry. I went up to check on her because she had arrived home last week with rather a swollen stomach; I had decided it was either a bad case of tapeworm (from eating too many raw mice while I was gone!) or perhaps she was pregnant. We had just decided yesterday that we might need to take her to see the vet this week.

Anyway, it soon became obvious that she was in labour, and by around 11 pm the first little boy was born; another followed half an hour later, and then a third little kitten popped out at about midnight. After some time, as they began to suckle and Tamba settled down purring again, I switched off the light and went to bed.... but about an hour and a half later, there was another loud yell, and I saw that a fourth kitten had been born - a little girl, this time (at least, as far as I could discern the gender of the newborns; apparently you can't be certain until they're three or four weeks old.)

At the church service, we'd been thanking God for the spiritual "new births" of various friends who had become Christians over the past year. I didn't expect some literal new births right there in my own bedroom. So now Sue and I are assuming our new and unexpected role as "grandparents." In a couple of months' time, we'll be looking for homes for the little ones, and then looking into getting Tamba spayed, so that any further new births we experience this year will only be the spiritual kind.

Of winter and watering...

Well, I don’t think it’s really spring yet, but we’re already beginning to see some blossoms appearing here in the south of Spain. We haven’t had snow like in more northern parts of the continent, but there has been so much rain over the past few months that the government has now announced that last year’s drought is officially over and all the reservoirs are full again.

This morning in my quiet time, I read Isaiah 55 verse 10, which says that the snow and the rain both have the purpose of watering the earth, making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for sowing and food for eating. After spending three weeks in Norway, where there was so much snow that you couldn’t even see any plants, it made me think about the fact that there are spiritual “seasons” in our lives, just as there are physical seasons in the world around us. This verse is a reminder that even the winter snow waters the seed that God has deposited in our life, and prepares the ground for fruitfulness, so that it will produce even more seed in the future.

When the snows come, at first they “block” everything, and no growth can penetrate their cold hardness... but when they finally melt, that same snow that was previously a blockage becomes the very thing that causes watering and fruitfulness. Likewise, any winter seasons that come in our lives, as hard and unyielding as they may be, and as much as they may block our fruit for a short while, can be “turned to good” by God, and be the very things that water and strengthen the deposit of His word and His promises in our lives. Because, as verse 11 explains, it is the word of God that really brings fruitfulness, as we allow it to take root in our hearts and continue to hold on to God, even amidst the harshness of winter when it comes.

Back home again

In just over four hours, I flew on Monday from the north of Europe to the south, and from thick snow to gentle sunshine. As my plane began to descend into Málaga, I had a surreal moment when I caught a glimpse of mountains and coastline, and realised that it looked incredibly similar to the Western Cape. (I've flown into Cape Town airport more than any other airport in the world - nearly fifty times - and each time I glimpsed Table Mountain or the familiar outline of the False Bay coastline, there was always such a wonderful sense of coming home again.) Monday was strange because, even though the landscape was kind of similar, I realised that there was nothing at all that I recognised; nothing looked familiar, because I haven't lived here long enough, or flown into this airport often enough, for it to have gained the familiarity of "coming home."

Something rather interesting has happened each time that I've come home to Alhaurín over the past few months. On my first day back, "Tamba" (the cat I wrote about on 10th November) always finds me somehow in the street, or just appears on our doorstep and makes herself at home again. This time, though, my flat mate told me that she hadn't seen the cat for the whole three weeks I'd been gone in Norway, even though she'd occasionally put out some food for her. It seemed that this time she'd disappeared for good.

Anyway, I unpacked my suitcase and then headed up to the supermarket to buy some bits and pieces.... and, as I was walking home again, imagine my surprise when I suddenly heard a loud miaow, and there was Tamba, following at my heels like a dog. She ran all the way to our house and waited there until I opened the door for her. Over these past two days, the purring has been so loud, that I half imagined the neighbours could hear it! As far as Tamba is concerned, we're both "back home again."