The Lord who Sustains

Today I visited Destiny Church Edinburgh. How awesome! During the p and w, I had a more than vague thought that church planting is tough, and life is a lot easier if you can slip into ready-made, someone else bust their back churches. The sermon was really encouraging - a young Scottish pastor with a true pastoring gift. At the altar call, 2 people got saved, and they were the strangers on either side of me. I got very choked up - the miracle of salvation really is a miracle, I remembered again.

Church this evening was great too. Everyone is really encouraging me re: my jobless state - "Oh don't worry, we've been here since February and we don't have jobs yet!" But seriously, they are encouraging me. I had fish and chips with Jana after church. She laid out some simple truth. God has called you here. He doesn't make mistakes. He loves you. He is sovereign. He hasnae forgotten you.

I know one thing. I am being so humbled. I am realising that humility has levels and they go down. I'm not the canny, in-control, organised, sensible Christian grown up I thought I was. I remain standing only by the grace of God.

Movie Review: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

I walked out of this movie. Well, then, I walked back in again, because six quid is a lot of money to walk out on. But the principle remains. I walked out.

I reckon Tim Burton was the perfect director for Roald Dahl - the set was great! The story line was great! The kids were great! But Willy Wonka was TERRIBLE!! Unless I totally missed the point when I read the book as a child, this is not the Willy Wonka I remember. I guess a break from the original could be forgiven, but in itself this characterisation of Wonka was painful. He is a giggling, effeminate, childish, sad little man. I suppose a point was made regarding fatherlessness.

But all the children in the cinema needed a HERO. The world needs heroes.

Progress Log

PROGRESS FACT #1
I think I am beginning to think more Scottishly. Currently, my most valuable possession is my Dry Mac.

PROGRESS FACT #2
I bought an Edinburgh Streetfinder, and put my name in the flyleaf.

PROGRESS FACT #3
I made the most amazing friend last night. I met up with Stephanie in a pub for an hour or so, and we talked. She's great! [I so desperately wanted her to like me, and I think she does.]

Postcards from Babylon

28 July 2005. Today I was invited to a cafe at Bristo Place. I had been told about it, but had never visited it. I had been told about it because apparently it is run almost entirely by volunteers, people who are not paid but who do get a meal for their pains. Being on the poverty stricken side and a few family members away from trying my luck selling 'The Big Issue' on the streets, I was interested and asked what cause they supported.

"Well, it's kind of non-profit. It's vegetarian... I don't know. Just the common good I suppose!"

Sounded socialist to me. But then, I am hyper socialism-conscious at the moment. So I turned up today. The crazy decor didn't deter me too much. I 'grew up' in Grahamstown. And I thought, after my experiences at the yellow submarine hostel in Inverness, I was hardened. Then, as I walked to the counter, my eyes and senses were accousted not only by advertisements for Anacharist group meetings, but also by a large blackboard proclaiming the availability of GAY P**N [forgive the asterix, not too keen for my blog to become x rated] - "just ask". Everything goes in this place. I was afraid to go to the bathroom. But I had to go, and had to laugh - I found the walls were plastered with paper, for those who couldn't resist graffetti, and because the volunteers "were tired of painting", according to an official notice. I left the cafe pretty soon after being invited, by a reasonable looking person, to a party celebrating the Festival of Lunacy.

The city reels. It drinks deep of its dark imagination, and desperately dreams of light and colour. It moves to the beat of a muffled drum of tolerance. Self is good. Self is god.

Land of Hope and Glory

27 July 2005. Well, I am back in Edinburgh after a rather strange journey - physically and emotionally. Having little success with jobs and feeling the wanderlust rising, (and it sounds super spiritual, but I wanted to pray for the nation - "develop my prophetic edge for Scotland" as Romona so neatly put it) I left for Inverness on Thursday afternoon, with a very vague plan about what I was going to do, where I was going to stay, how long for and all that! Jack, a friend of Vicky's from Pietermaritzburg, for those of you who don't know him, and now I can say a friend of mine - he has been really great!! - was in Inverness, and so I tried to bag a bed in the place he was staying but there was no room. [And the next place also didn't have any room. Actually Jack later pointed out the profundity of this - he says "There have been many influential people in the past who have been told 'there is no room'"!!!] The third hostel I went to - guys - this place was something else. It looked (and smelt) like it was straight out of the music video for 'Yellow Submarine', and it was full of people to match!! I knew I'd have to quell some of my more 'delicate sensibilities' on this trip!! Held my own when a middle aged Italian man in his underwear tried to insist "Zis is my bed!"... referring to the bed I was climbing into! Jack left on Friday, but I wasn't alone as I met this girl called Rebekah, from Canada, who was hitchhiking around the UK and who turned out to be a Christian. We went to the Inverness Highland Games together on Saturday, which was really great - Scottish culture at its best. So many men in kilts, and some look rather too good in them.

But my bravado was only outward on the weekend. I was "chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy"*, a little bit more on the bitter side, suffice to say I took a rather melancholy turn. (oh man can you see me relishing this? I love writing! When else do you ever get to say "suffice to say"?) ANYWAY, basically I got to feeling really really down, and was exactly like the man in James who is tossed about by waves of doubt - Doubt with a capital D - very ugly. Sunday was the worst - yuck!!! Rebekah and I went to church twice on Sunday, to two different "Free" Church of Scotland's, which were identical in format, except that we stood to pray and sat to sing at the one, and sat to pray and stood to sing at the other. The freakiest thing about the morning service was that I noticed that the ladies in front of me were all wearing hats, and when I looked around, every single woman and girl was wearing a hat. But, I thought the essence of the preaching at both churches was really good, so that was something positive. And surely the more pentecostal churches are around somewhere!? I don't know in Inverness. I really liked the town, it reminded me of Grahamstown.

I suspect somebody was praying for me on Sunday. By the evening I felt a lot better. I set off for Ullapool on Monday morning, which is about an hour and a half north west, on the west coast. I had a brilliant, if vague and scary, idea to go to the Hebrides, turning the journey into something of a pilgrimage, but discovered that the ferry would be much too expensive. Ullapool is a quaint fishing village out of the nineteenth century! SO lovely. I spent the entire day walking up the coast, thrashing some stuff out with the Lord. No great revelation or even feeling of comfort came to me, but I do know that by the time I went to my hostel in the evening, I felt like an unwound spring, relaxed at last.

I met the most amazing Scottish lady at my hostel. Her name is Elizabeth and she's about 40. She and I struck up a friendship straight away. She has a very dry sense of humour!! Anyway, I found out she was from Edinburgh but she seemed reluctant to say anything personal, so I didn't ask about what she thought happened after you die, I just resolved to say in touch in the future. We had a grand time together. She took me on a beautiful 8 or 9 km walk on Tuesday, and feed me very well in the evening (The Lord says 'I will raise up the ravens to feed you'). ANYWAY, going to bed - we're in the bathroom, and I put on my HP tshirt to sleep in. "What's that on the back of your shirt?" she asks. "Oh..." I say "History Maker, Daniel 11v32... it's a Bible verse". Her jaw just dropped. "Are you into all that?" she asked. So I said "Yes, I'm very much into it!" "Do you mean to tell me that all this time, we could have been talking about important stuff, not all that drivvle about mountains and such?" Guys, she's an on fire Christian (temporarily and sensibly under a bush, like me). It was absolutely crazy. So then, everything came out!! God used her to encourage me, and me to encourage her. Even if you flee to ends of the earth, which is what Ullapool feels like, you can't hide from the Lord.

I stepped out of the bus into Edinburgh today, and found that once again I believed that God is big. Bigger. Even though I'm still afraid, it seems irrational NOT to see that God will look after me somehow. I realized in Ullapool how quickly the Word can slip away from you if you don't drink DEEPLY of it every day. You gotta chow that Word.

*This is a misquote from As You Like It, misquoted by none other than Sir Walter Scott, who used it in "Waverley", his novel which I am reading at the moment!

Hiya! (Scots' Greeting)

From Edinburgh, my new home. It's been an easy introduction in many ways, especially as Vicky has been looking after me so well, giving me stacks of tips about everything... and also especially as the weather has been the hottest ever in Scotland, by the way people are talking! For five days after I arrived, not a spot of rain and beautiful sunshine. Vicky lives near some park lawns which have been covered with (really) white bodies trying to catch a real tan!! Today is cloudy again, which is a relief in a way as I am walking a lot and have been getting sunburnt and stuff. People are really friendly here though I'm really conscious that my accent makes me stand out as a foreigner - they think I'm on holiday and will be gone with the summer.

Because there are so many tourists, Scottish traditions are being exhibited all over the place - there IS bagpipe music in the streets, and there are Scottish flags everywhere, and many many "man-skirt" (refer to Rajagopaul's Dictionary of Scottish Life) shops. I went to a ceilidh (a song and dance!) on Saturday night, where there were NOT any tourists, which was great - met some great Scots. The first two guys I met happened to have been born in Zimbabwe! Amazing!

Meeting the people on the church plant team was pretty strange. This is my family whether I like them or not. Fortunately I like them, on first impression! There are only about 25 of us so far, the rest are still arriving. I like Pastor Tom. He's really humble and real. And after the fast paced life of HP Grahamstown I think things are going to be very chilled, for the next couple of months anyway, while everyone settles in. I was so relieved when he said that this is not going to be a 'seeker-sensitive' church, something I feared - it's going to be a 'God-sensitive' church first and foremost.

I have been working hard at finding a job, filling out stacks of
application forms... the problem is that the jobs which I would want
long term are only starting mid-Augustish after the whole application and interview process. It's a bit scary, actually more than a bit scary, because I have to LIVE until then!! I've trying to find waitressing for the festival period but that's proving more difficult than I thought it would. I'm heading out again after I send this... it's been a bit tiring and discouraging, and not having all the Gtown Saints around to speak the TRUTH is just blah.

I've had a lot of opportunity to talk about God, surprisingly!! I
think because people ask me why Edinburgh and so I have to mention the church. In a city where truth is "nice for you", and where all the young people are pretty self satisfied because they have their grand socialist ideas and they marched against the "eight middle aged white men who decide the fate of the world". Abortion and gay lifestyles are absolutely normal. (I got asked what I thought about gay marriage, but not abortion yet - whew -, also got myself into a discussion about capitalism - yikes). It's SO BAD, because I can feel myself being
tempted to soften things and disguise things, and I can feel my mouth going watery, and the fear of offending people is big. Truth and Love have got to be balanced! But at least the ice has been broken and I am talking, not remaining silent!! I know one thing now - to speak about God as He is - Real. Not my belief or religion or vague consciousness which I bend this way and that. Not to tack on "for me" to my sentences!

Note to Self

Mugg & Bean should start an airline. I would fly them.

Sojourn in Pretoria

27 June

To fill all my millions of readers in, I have lost my passport, had to apply for a new one, and have ended up waiting in Pretoria for it to be ready.

So here I am, in Pretoria, where - according to Fifi Formson, God lives. (He just visits everywhere else).

I have spent the morning composing Odes to Aloneness. Here is a sample:

How I wish I could show my JENNY
My new socks so stripy and PRETTY

Am looking forward to tomorrow, because Tendai and I are going to meet up.I phoned the British Embassy this morning, and you only get through once in a blue moon, because they have "more than 1000 calls daily", and a blue moon happened and they told me my passport is NOT READY, and the story has changed from two to three weeks.

I have been reading a lot and thinking about things, a bit like Pooh.

1 July

So... I am drawing near to the end of my sojourn in the fair and sunny city of Pretoria, after a dramatic showdown at the passport office on Wednesday. It was amazing!! I saw this really stroppy and rude woman become the most lovely and helpful person before my eyes... must have been God!! So I picked up the passport this morning and am flying on Sunday night, for SURE!!