The end

"Its so hot they shut the windows and door to keep the cool in" my mum had warned me, but i didnt believe it until i peeled myself off my chair in the 44 degree heat today. Luckily i passed on my solo trip to Toledo an amazingly pretty but heat trapped city, in favour of a 3 euro pool entre. sitting at the base was like sitting in an oven and packing three backpacks worth of stuff into one was a tough task, even for someone as stubborn as me. We watched as people left one by one, the emotional ones were crying on and off all day, and other walking round contemplating their stone heart and wondering what was wrong with them not blubbing at the sight of another backpack being taken out the door.

But soon enough it was me - thank goodness, i was so excited to be going home, it had been such a crazy emotional week. I had eventually spoken to my dad his flight had been delayed until late unto the night, maybe one day i would see him again, maybe not. Still I had memories of our dinners i would always treasure.

As we got to the airport i had told the girls i didnt want long tearful goodbyes, just jokes a slap on the arse and see you later please...lots of laughing and a quick parting, i hated goodbyes and so it was a quick and cheerful goodbye and that was that, i was in the airport by myself. For the next 5 hours i lived out 'The Terminal' film as my flight was delayed adding to my already long wait. But eventually i rolled through the gate to see debs little face waving in the crowd.

A glass of champagne at home with mum, and round to the girls for fajitas and champers before falling into my bed...my bed, in my house!

Mi Padre

It had been three months, part of me didnt believe that he was that guy, his words were so warm his face so full of love, it wasnt that he wasnt genuine it was that he had made decisions in his life which as a result trapped him into one course of action, out of which, the only other choice would wreck everything in his life. I was a fleeting presence and role for which there was no contest, once i got on that plane he would be left with whatever life was before i showed up, it simply wasnt worth the trade off.

I wondered whether i was completely stupid for coming out here, everyone said i was so brave, did they mean they wouldnt be so stupid? would no-one else take the risk of getting this kind of hurt, why would they. I looked back in my life... i had traced him when i was a teenageer, i had come out here, i was the one calling. was i brave or just dumb? But this time, tonight i cried out to God to be here in this, knowing God, doesnt take away the hurt of things, being in relationship with God doesnt mean life is always sweet and easy, it means that you turn to God when there not. You can call on God - the God of the universe to speak to, to comfort you, to walk with whether things are amazing or utterly crap.

I had learned in the last 6 months to seperate things going wrong, with my relationship with God, in the past everytime something got you mad or hurt, i cut my relationship with God, like someone giving you a hug when your about to cry i would push him away by simply cut off, i think most people do this, but now i had learnt to let God be the one to colapse on not the one to cut out as a way of ignoring the pain.

A year ago i would have left the room if someone had preached on the father heart of God i and when i knew enough people in church that it had become an obsticle course of people who cared and would leave to come check you were ok i would simply sit a glaze over. But here i had learned how to face dissapointment, acknowledge it and cry out to God, to break your heart before him, to see him as a father. not to harden your heart when you herd that, because of your own experiences of a father but realise that he was the ultimate father, the precident that the perfect father role was based on.


In my mums words I had to enjoy the times i had had together with my dad, accept him for the man he was and show him kindness, he didnt mean to hurt me, it was simply a result of bad desicions. Goyo had said as we graduated the only piece of advice he had was make good decisions, always choose jesus. So maybe it was better this way that tonight i wouldnt see him, as much as i wanted closure how tormentedly difficult would dinner across from him have been, listening to more promises that wouldnt be, sitting there giving God the bitterness and hoping that he would give me the words to tell this man about jesus? to show him kindness and just enjoy his company, i would never know which way would have been harder, but i had a feeling watching the hours slip away or going out with the girls would never come close.

Soon i would be home, among friends and on the road to building hopefully some of the visions in my head, to get trained in areas i wanted to know and gain skills. To work with people and maybe design, to somehow glorify God in life, help people in whatever area of the world i was.



Why did i write on this? such a personal subject, so full of emotions for the world to read? because i want to give glory to god, right now tonight i want to say he is awesome when things are amazing and he is awesome when things are not.

Does what it says on the tin.

As i peeled my sweaty body off the train seat and stepped onto the station the sign read 38 degrees, it was half five at night and i was stepping onto Atotcha station central Madrid.

M.O.L.A. seemed a lifetime ago and this week had been the most emotional off them all, de-brief and re-entry, saying goodbye to people, and praying for one another in the hot seat as we had done all those months before, i can still remember that first day....four hours sleep, bundled myself and my stuff on the morning train, wandering round this very station until a Spanish girl and her Swedish friend approached me asking if i was v-keey marrrrrr and looking bewildered when i had dumped my stuff and ran off to use the long que stinking public train station toilets. Those same women had been my mentor, Spanish tutor and both friends who i would stay in touch with for hopefully years to come.

I walked down from Atotcha and met Hannah in the Jazz bar in Huertas, our fav spot, as i quietly died of heat exhaustion over a cold glass of water Hannah approached with what i could only presume to be a Californian or at least American.

The girl turned out to be Megan a 25 year old from California, she'd been living for a month in salmanaca a near by university town and was flying out the next day, the girls had rescued her from some sleazy guys in Retiro park. We moved onto a local bar a hybrid of Irish meet Spanish with an Afro Caribbean twist, we drank a jug of sangria and started to get feel for Megan, she was direct, which i liked, and her humor had a spiky sarcastic twist. There was personality there and we chatted about various things from meeting real parents to wild bore on the menu and the Spanish's love of all things seafood and tuna on everything.
We headed towards Sol through Santa Anna plaza. We found a Hawaii bar on the corner and for 18 euros filled the table with about 5 kinds of tapas and a volcano cocktail with 3 metre long straws the staff gave us a plastic lei, cocktail umbrella and carnation each. At the end of the night Hannah and i said goodbye to Megan and strolled for the last time down Huertas's gorgeous streets.

This morning however had a different feel to it, with a cup of coffee down me i sat and tried to compose a video for the staff, a collection of every ones photos onto DVD, research my next trip and take my copy of photos from Hannah's collection, Graduation started at 6 and at 5.30 i was still in front of a computer..actually i was in front of two armed with my mates Spanish brother to help and only a language barrier and fight against time to contend with. Running across our floor with arms full of clothes and make-up while things downloaded, uploaded and saved i tore my hair out that i spent two days doing stuff and yet had seemingly accomplished nothing, i hadnt a clue what i would stand up and say when presented with my diploma, I hadnt eaten lunch never mind shaved my legs!

Yet this evening i graduated, complete with make-up and might i add - in a dress! and not a black one! i gave a perfect speech if i do say so myself and tonight after the slap-up meal we came back and blessed the staff, washed their feet, prayed for them and played them a complete video of their last 6 month highlights!

It was really the end, and i really had made it...i stayed! and was actually under the 2007 graduation banner! i had faced my past, met my natural father, been out to lepper colonies, worked with children, prayed in crowds of people, eaten whale..(that one was tonight) and generally learned who I am, what a relationship with God can really be when your baggage starts to be removed and was going home with vision for the future on what I wanted life to be.
Its not that i lacked personality, drive or vision before, its just that there was a new sense of life being about even more, a stronger desire for God to be the focus of life and hopefully finally my identity would be in him and not my ability as a designer, not whether i was in shape or not, i wasn't scared for people to see me for who i really was, because i was turning to God for stuff.
YWAM DTS's do what they say on the tin...knowing God and making him known.

The end of MOLA

The penultimate day was a free day, but better than that Tania and Guillihermo got baptised at the beach. It was amazing and if i hadn't already been baptized i would have stepped down into the water myself! Tania looked gorgeous in a white summer dress as with a whoop she declared Jesus Christ lord of her life and was officially ´dunked´. I got the whole thing on video including an emotional clip of her hugging her friends and a message home, it had been a huge decision to do this without her family there, but after the last 6 months she didn't want to wait any longer.

Guillihermo went next, a crazy man of God from the jungle in Brazil he reminded me of a modern day John the baptist with his crazy big beard and wild curly locks, his heart for God was massive, this guy lived to tell the gospel to people. He came out of the water and sprayed everyone (cameras included) with an ecstatic splash of water.

After a couple of hours we head to a top Chinese restaurant for a slap up meal a thank you from the leaders for all our hard work, flexibility and sacrifices of giving up beds, and at times showers! M.O.L.A. was amazing it had been the best part of the DTS varied, challenging, beach life - evangelism.

The last night i stepped down onto the beach while the Chilean team did circus stuff juggles, man on stilts etc it was the perfect time of day the Spaniards were leaving the Beach to get dinner, the sun was setting and i nearly had the Waves to myself. My thoughts were directed to the next bit of life, in the last month i had been thinking alot about life and the feeling was no More talking about what you´ll do when you grow up, it was time to do, so what were my biggest visions, dreams and passions? because whatever they were it was time to do them.

last locations

Torrent had been good, the evening programmes had consisted of two locations firstly a green walkway inbetween two lanes of the main ave, performing dances dramas and testimonies and handing out some tracts. The second location a big square with a small stage and lights, as i stepped up to dance montaña one of the spainish dances my heart missed abeat as i was on a stage dancing on the front row.

But the nights were a success on the last night about 8 people gave their lives to christ and the sunday night servcie was packed, we danced, worshipped like crazy and i gave my testimony, i wondered what what the point once again i was giving it to a christian congregation but after the guys preach another 5 people came downt eh front and gave their lives to christ.

It was wierd people here read the tracts (they were cartoon ones with the message of christs death at the end, a scripture and details of the local church we were working with in each place) that was the cool thing, we were linking people to their local church rather than breezing in and out and leaving people to be christians on their own, having given their life to christ and nothing more after.

Returning to our families villa each night was pretty nice too although i found their spanish difficult to understand, still it was nice to experience a spainsh house for a couple of days, drinking your cereal IN your coffee and cake for breakfast! but the luxuary of a bed, clean washing and a pool couldnt last forever and Porto Sagunto was a shock to the system, the first night on the floor and no shower slot, i walked a mile each way to wash in the sea! still the beach was amazing, the programme location was great and i now had a matress to sleep on.

Torrennt

Contrary to popular belief the new town had more life than the last and was great, we were split into pairs or threes for host families and we drew the lucky card, our family had a villa in the hils complete with swimming pool and our own bathroom, bathrobes, and when we had replied we liked museli in the morning they had bought 4 kinds along with half a pastry shop!

It was the first time in nearly 6 months i wasnt sleeping in a bunk bed on the floor or a lilo, we had hot water and a flipping pool! I couldnt believe it, i felt like a queen. After india we had been delayed and put in a 5 star hotel, the other night a family had hosted all 37 of us to dinner in the hills and waited on us hand and foot and now this!

The new church was so organised, despite being only a church of 200 they fed 1000 people a month, worked with youth, rehab for adicts, immigrants, hosted christmas dinner for epople who couldnt do their own, sports for under priviladged kids and to top it all their guy running it all was gorgeous....can i live here please!?

The first night out their team was as big as ours and we hosted a short programme in one of the main avenues, quick dances, dramas and a testimony of how someone came to know jesus, flyering and talking to people before moving to one of the squares where we had a stage as well as our sound system although the numbers werent many in the second square this morning the pastor had already had a couple of people phoning him to find out more.

we went out this morning, armed with flyers and heading for a cafine hit before proceeding out to speak to people, it suited us, you could approach people how you felt comfortable, the town was nice and active and it was sunny! whats more three of us would be in the pool for the siesta ;)

To tiny towns.....together.

The last night had been amazing, the sound had gone well, the dances were incredible we pulled off a new and fast one without messing up. we stayed in the square until late singing dancing and enjoying ourselves til long after people had gone home.

That was a week ago, the Puerto Rican team had left and we had been to a couple of other places, 7/7/7 had taken place a day of prayer for spain, finished with a massive outreach night on the beach, we had breakdancers start freestyling to one of our rappers, and every type of dance, spanish coutry hip-hop, and some worship you name it, half of valencias churches came out flyering too, everyone on the beach one, I even went round to the local new age market, handing flyers out to palm readers and voodoo doll sellers.

This week we were told we would be split for a week with half going to a tiny town with no church and likely no internet, the girls were destraught at being split so close to the end, so strings were pulled and the staff split. Tomorrow we´d be cleaning down the entire church building and moving out of the industrial estate to the the tiny and what sounded like lifeless town on wedensday, staying in host families the outreach would have an entirely different feel, (for starters we´d be sleeping in arooms and beds not lilos on floors!) everything felt different now, the group felt closer than ever, after saying goodbye to the Puerto Rican team our thoughts had turned to the real goodbyes in 3 weeks, whats more i had just booked a cheap flight home.

The industrial estate

We moved, now 12km from the beach we were staying in a church in the middle of an industrial estate. We were going out into a park between apartment blocks and performing for families with young kids and bored youth and the atmosphere was very different.

The first night was a disaster, the sound went we didnt know half the songs, everyone was tired of feeling ill we didnt eat til 10 and i had torn a chest muscle last week being an idiot in a kids act and had been in pain up for the best part of 5 days. We needed God to break though here, the worship last week on the beach had been awesome, Gods presence was so real it was like worshipping in an army although there had only been 30 or so of us, but this felt so different. Last night with food down us and the sick ones at home, and a sound system in place people had conversations and prayed with people. For me though it didnt clear, i was finally in an awesome place with God, i wanted to stand there and tell the world about him, but my spainsh was falling to bits having neglected it for the last two months, i wasnt in many of the dances at the mo, i couldnt understand spanish slang to sit and talk to the bored youth, i felt useless and so discouraged i could cry. Not knowing the words to the spanish worship songs we were now singing, i could have kicked myself as i stood there like an idiot choosing between making up words in english in my own worship or interceeding for what we were doing or standing there clapping and trying not to look like too much of a plum til it was over. Last week i had jumped the language barrier by chasing cyclists and joggers, with a little cheeky spainsh and giving them flyers, i may not have have profoundly deep conversations but at least there was an extra 10% of people getting to read abit on the gospel, dancing and singing some of the worship songs down on the beach at least people could see christ in me, but here i was frustrated, i had been praying God would give me a passion for his name and passion for the gospel and now i had it and felt so useless i could cry.

´no-one is going to come over to someone with a face like a slapped arse and ask them how they get jesus in there life, so get off your bum, die to yourself and go sit with the teenagers´ i told myself, so i went over to the teenagers and sat like a plum, a supportive plum but a plum nonetheless. From now on i would learn the worship songs in the morning break, attempt the kids club and play football however badly with the kids, soemhow i was going to be used, it was upto God how, i just had to put myself out there and take up the spainsh lessons again in the afternoon freetime. I was here to tell people about christ and how amazing he was, I had to do it, he had answered my prayer i now wanted to do it, it was just a question of how.

finally

It had been a week already, it had flown, God had answered my prayer i was loving it, not only for the freedom and the beach 5 mins away, but each night the worship was awesome, the dances and dramas looked good, people were coming to God almost daily and i was actually enjoying racing round giving flyers to people about jesus. I was finally in a place with God where it didnt matter what people thought except that somehow we could point the way to jesus to what he had done so they could know God.

Thursday we went out and we were dancing as our drummers joined the local african guys drumming jimbay drums on the beachfront, sober i was dancing my heart out, we danced whooped laughed and used the opportunity to hand out more flyers, followed by night swimming, all at full moon, very different from fullmoon parties of the past, but as i looked up and thought of th past few years it was finally starting to feel right - this way, I may not have enjoyed parts of the last few months but God had done so much in me, as I sat and watched one of our dances on the street with world flags, i was proud to be a part of this i was proud to be on the street talking about, and dancing for jesus.

On the street

Last night was the first night on the street, I wasn´t excited, I wasn´t even sure what I was doing here. As we arrived to the part of the beach we were going to set up, I looked across at the beach bar, with designer deck chair styled seats and cocktail and beer drinking crowd, then over to the black ´MOLA´t-shirt wearing crowd setting up ready to perform and talk about Jesus. I was going to be on the otherside to normal, a wave of fear came over swept over me and I headed for the edge of the beach to sort my head out. I prayed.

God, help me to do this, help' me to have a passion for your name, give ma a passion for spreading the gospel, its the most important thing in the world and I dont have a passion for it. God, help me.´The scripture 32 “Everyone who acknowledges me publicly here on earth, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. 33 But everyone who denies me here on earth, I will also deny before my Father in heaven. came to mind, ´God I dont want to acknowledge you only so you will acknowledge me, I want to acknowldge you and tell people about you because I love you and youve stuck with me, your always there, I want to acknowledge you because your amazing! God, I want to, want to do this - I WANT TO, WANT TO DO THIS! please help me.´

I went and worshiped god with all my heart last night, looking up at the setting sky and worshiped jesus. I hoped people would se the joy that Jesus brings and see for real - I hoped it would break the pre-conceptions of religiosity and boringness of church & God. I was actually impresed with our dances and dramas! they looked good. we were in good spirits even handing out tracts at the end I ran alongside joggers and cyclists I was grinning and and cheeky until they took one, some of the others found a shopping trolly and pushed each other round, there was so much joking and dancing it was great, I hoped people could see we were normal people who just had a relationship with God - but more than that, that it would break the preconceptions that it was BORING!

valencia

There were 70 of us sleeping in this church, but the beach was about 100m away and the puerto rican team were all very nice, the food was good so far and the daily jobs were pretty easy going. I had two choices, focus on the things i hated and why on earth was i here, or the good things....for the next four weeks i would be polyanna.

My tan would come up nice and maybe i would get past all the issues about performing and get to a place where i could share my faith with people: why God is mindblowing, without being concerned with what they thought of me, or whether i could dance in the street. Fact was, jesus is amazing, in my life when ive not run in the opposite direction but actually stopped and listened to the still small voice of God, i have calmed and things have always worked out. He knows me inside out, i want to tell people about God, about what Jesus did so they could be close to him its just the evangleism stuff that gets in the way ;)

return to the base

Monday was not my favourite day, lentils for lunch, salad for dinner and hours of learning and perfecting evangelistic dances and all on about 2 hours sleep. Sunday night we would be in valencia a city on spains east coast not far from Alicante, Santiago Calatravas architecture, miles of beach and despite the tourists still a mainly spainsh city. We would be there for a month long outreach like india, evangelistic dances, dramas and testimonies, going out and speaking to people about god, your relationship with him and where they were at - in sort terrifying stuff.

What was different about telling people about god in a western country? was there any difference? would it be harder than india? is it easier to do it in countries so different from your own and if so why!? i would im sure find out the answers to all these and more, but for now it ment hours of practicing dramas and dances, some of which i didnt like. If the church was going to use secular things as tools of evangelism then they need to look flippin impressive, theres nothing good or street stopping about mediocure of silly moves. but beyond that was the issue of being at the front, yes lots of people not only able to see you - but watching everything, literally your every move! secondly the thought of messing up infront of people looking, and thirdly the thought that even if you did it all perfect the dance may not look good before you go out into the crowd and talk to complete strangers about where they were at with god! i was fixing my thoughts on the fact id be near a beach, the fact that there was 6 weeks left and praying for god to use me, change my attitude and my focus!

costa blanca

The train was at four and we pulled into the mile long ticket que at 3.30, it made no odds that a couple gave us their que ticket, the next available seat was at 8pm, but not discouraged in our weekend break we headed to Huertas our favourite part of Madrid. Hannah and I were taking our one weekend away to meet a friend of mine on the costa blanca, and the weekend started now, outside our favourite jazz bar we passed the time with a beer and later boarded one of spains long distance trains, its seats more like business class than chicken coup and its food carriage looked more like a local tapas bar.

we pulled into Alicante at midnight and we left no choice but to pay the 55 Euro taxi to the town down the coast, but it was worth it, the sleepy little town that happened to have a fiesta going.
Saturday we roasted and after branding ourselves with a sun tan at the water park headed into Benidorm. The tacky tourist city sits proudly on the beach but beyond the Brits abroad and topless grannies we found aspects of the place to be quite nice. paddling along the gorgeous beach and having drinks at the top of the headland looking back over the bay.

About to board our Sunday night train, it appeared our return ticket was not so return as one way, removing my flip-flops and legging down the station I jumped the que to find no-one could help the train was full. We headed across town to the bus station, in part excited by the prospect of having a night unavoidably stuck in Alicante and a few more hours of beach, but praying we could get back before class the next day, it would not be looked upon well to return monday after class so close to another outreach trip.

Our 1am bus would get us in at 6am and leave us a couple of hours to see Alicante, as we whooped, splashed as screamed down the beach in delight, kicking water and generally soaking ourselves under the setting sun we found a small bar at the end of the beach, cocktails in hand, and getting text updates from our friends for the Real Madrid final, it was the most perfect end to the most incredible weekend.

commentaries & perspective

So it was about time i should write something, i was aware contacting home was slowing trying to get back into some routine here before we left for Valencia in a week, that would be it, when we returned we would have a week before graduating the school and into the abyss once again of the ´what now?´.

The week of evangelism hadn't been much routine, and next weeks preparations would prove I'm sure to be the same, this weeks classes on studying the bible it was non threatening, good stuff, it was refreshing to find that in the last four months i had started discovering some of the things myself. Using a bible commentary, a book that explains each passage and its relevant contents, i don't know how id read the bible without one, just glazing over stuff you didn't understand that had such cultural significance it completely changed passages and turned symbolic imagery into linked prophecy and small comments into huge gestures. Revelation blew my mind the first time in fact i gave my life to god reading a king James version 5 years ago but the thought of reading it again i was a little nervous, it took two days and reading it with a commentary it was incredible.

I hadn't seen my dad since returning, he was busy, this time of year was the busiest period of his work, and next week we would see whether that was the truth or just a way out. People had all given there opinion, something when you process and dissect things from all angles i had learnt starts to build into a huge bank of stuff that you end up wading through before you reach your own feelings on the matter, on the one hand he was simply busy, his job and its timing i had to keep in perspective he was working flat out and it would soon slow down his deadlines would pass, and we could meet more and continue to get to know one another, his words would be true and this would be a gaping hole of paranoia that would be proved wrong and i would build some trust there. I would meet one of my half sisters and we would go up north to show me his roots.

The other side was that he was too busy, i had come hoping to build a relationship and he wouldn't tell his wife about me, he was busy each week, communication slowed and he may have layed claim to me in words but not action, He was too busy to see me, was it that he had seen me and walked clean away? that's it the big fear, the biggest fear humans walk through life with, the lie that your not good enough, or that people will see you for all you are and walk if not run away. I had come to Spain with the expectation of meeting him the attitude that I was 25 I didn't need a dad, so what had changed? he´d said some stuff that melted my heart things i hadn't realised i had been dying to hear and when they don't come you harden your heart and pretend it doesn't matter.

The community meeting talk had been on personal disappointment, it was one of those times you sit in a room and wonder why they were wasting everyones time, it might as well have your name on it, by the end i just wanted her to stop talking. But it made me face the disappointments head on, realise i should stop listening and dwelling on everyone Else's opinions of things, (i know it in theory but find it hard not to practice) take my feelings and go to god, asking him for his perspective, as one who knows all people and knows you so well, why waste your energy going round like a washing machine over unproductive thought patterns, believing the lies and insecurities we live under, using situations as compounding evidence and pushing people away in presumption of their actions. why don't we turn to god? you know when you do you, you experience his peace, why do we hold onto stuff? he loves us, he wants to reassure us, and give us perspective so why instead do we hold onto these things and let bitterness fester, excusable rebellion, and dislocate relationships that support us?

Gods love wasn't empty, it was the precedent of father, a year ago if someone had preached on the father heart of god i would have left the room, but now even now with all that was going on i could see that god was the ultimate father, before the fall, the relationship of father -the way things were meant to be, faultless and blameless and never hollow, never unpredictable or untrustworthy, god was god, and always there.

I was learning to worship even when it hurt, I was slowly but surely learning that my relationships with people reflected where i was at with god, I was learning to place my identity in god and his love....for real, so many times i had learnt to place my identity in god, even telling people what i had learnt while re-placing it in something else. I was learning rebellion wasn't excusable when you hurt, you didn't need it, it was still a choice its just your hurt was a scape goat and all it did was take you further away from the peace and satisfaction of God. far from perfect, righteous or holy i was learning that I loved god and that i wanted to know him more.

faithful

The weekly journal comprised of notes from the weeks lectures/activities and researching an attribute of god, with biblical references and dictionary definitions. this week I looked at faithful, whether your a christian or not just look at this definition of the word and synonyms and imagine a relationship with god when his love is like this.

Faithful:
strict or thorough in the performance of duty, true to one's word, promises, vows, etc. steady in allegiance or affection; loyal; constant: faithful friends. reliable, trusted, or believed. adhering or true to fact, a standard, or an original.

True, devoted, staunch. Constant, loyal imply qualities of stability, dependability, and devotion. Faithful implies long-continued and steadfast fidelity to whatever one is bound to by a pledge, duty, or obligation: a faithful friend. Constant suggests firmness and steadfastness in attachment: a constant affection. Loyal implies unswerving allegiance to a person. precise, exact.
affectionate, allegiant, attatched, behind one, confiding, devoted, enduring, fast, firm, genuine, honest, incorruptable, loving, reliable, steady, true, unchanging, unswerving. (dictionary.com thesaurus)

The bible tells us gods love and faithfullness are demonstrated by loving thousands, forgiving their wickedness, rebellion and sin (exodus 34 v6-7) isnt that mindblowing! that faithfullness described above is gods love even when we sin, even when we are rebellious, gods love is unchanging it doesnt dent, it doesnt retract or shut down, it doesnt self proctect or leave.

carpe diem?

We arrived back to rain and clouds, the girls headed off to Barcelona leaving me with use of a washing machine, laptop, bathroom and room to myself, other than the comatosed state of exhaustion it was bliss.


I waited in the airport for Hannah and the rest of the Moroccan team to arrive back like a little kid, over the next few days we head out to Huertas the writers district of Madrid with its funky jazz bars and little streets, plazas and typically Spanish restaurants and pavement cafe scene, this was the ´northern quarter´ of Madrid.

After the the following weeks teaching, Hannah and I headed to Segovia an old city with beautiful streets cathedrals and castles, it felt a little like the truman show that you would hit the edge and find a door out. Spain was gorgeous, and after a days wandering we finished with a few sangrias, best ive ever had too, not bad for a euro.

This week was evangelism again, cant say I was too enthused, I dont want to do evangelism - i just want to tell people about jesus, there was something about walking straight upto people and interupting their life to tell them your view, maybe it was the british in me but i hated approaching people. I never thought id be one of those people with tracts, one of the leaders when asked if he´d used them said "yeah, ive used them, ive also had to save people from them" We walked upto a few people, some older spaniards, they were very closed. We walked on disheartened and approached some teenage girls, to be honest if id have been them id have thought the same, id have though we were harry krishners or something, we lacked enthusiasm warmth or general people skills as we handed them some tracts adn tried to ask them how they were doing. It was bad we were discouraged and lacking in confidence. we sat down to pray, why were we doing this?, taking it back to basics what was so mindblowing in your relationship with god that made you stand on a street corner or approach complete strangers and bring a conversation out of nowhere which leads to god? ok god was going to have a huge part of it, infact all the credit has to go to god, but how and why were we willing to put ourselves out there for him to do it?

we discussed our fears, feelings and excitement about god, prayed and headed back trying to approach people as we did, we returned to meet the others and listenened to their stories of how they had told the gospel to people or prayed with them, and headed home wondering what we were doing.

The following afternoon we had some time to relax following some hard manual labour on a churches renvations and expansion, Guillihermo a crazy brazilian guy who cant help but tell people about jesus anywhere and everywhere we go (especially as we are just heading off home!) was walking with us and wanted to approach a young couple on a nearby bench, I stayed back not fully joining him but not leaving either. He started talking to the guy who turned out to be morrocan, Guillihremo chatted away having just been to morrocco himself, but but didnt mess around the conversation was about god pretty quick, i thought he´d hand him a tract and we´d be on our way but no, slowly I moved closer til I was partly in the conversation, still shy in my spainsh i listened. But the conversation came round to carpe diem ´seize the day´ and living the moment, my heart started beating fast, they were like me 8 years ago, partying and not caring about much, but i knew more partying than they may ever know and i knew nothing would satisfy like god, there was a peace and a joy that satisfied beyond any sex, drugs or drink. Cotty had also hung back but stayed at a distance until now, I turned and asked her to translate me, I would only end up frustrated if I tried to unsuccesfully say what I was dying to say. I gave my testimony. I did it I told someone the relivant truth about jesus and what i knew of him, how my life had changed. It wasnt for me to change their life but for the holy spirit to, I had done what he needed me to do and all that was left was to pray for them and hope that god could or had used my words somehow, that someday they would remember them and turn to god and find out for themsleves what he was like.

Mumbai

Sunday was the last time we took an auto home, past the cocnut grove the plastic tarplin tent shelters past famileies sat picking the kids hair clean, just before the yard of yaks and back to the house. Benny, the brazilian couple, victor and manjula had come for a final lunch, and veronica kept the coffee coming til late into the night. It wouldnt all be bad memories from that place.

We were in hgh spirits as we left for mumbai (bombay) reclaiming itspre-british identity. We flew kingfisher, and imressive new cheap airline, and as we were landing the beauty of mumbai could be seen, rivers, sea, the houses flowing over hills. But as we got a closer look the beauty faded as i saw asias biggest slum spread benieth. All you could see was corrigated iron roofs like a pack of playing cards little glimpses of allies between roofs. there was only one thought in my head 'why had we been evangelising and performing down south when this was an hour north, why werent we here?' 'next year' was my second.

The taxi ride from the airport was an hour squashed next to margarita and cotty in one of mumbai's rather cool old taxis. So many people sleeping rough on the street such poverty amoungst the ecclectic mix of fantastic art deco architecture next to tower blocks that looked like they were built from mould. As i smiled at goyo alba and rebeccas cab behind i noticed one of the skany buildings read HOSPTAL in big letters, my heart sank.

When we finally arrived at the hotel it was third floor, our room down a dingy flourescent lit corridor was a small room with twin beds pushed together, a little shelf with a small tv and a cage boxed window that looked out onto about 2m of concrete, however it was locked had a/c and was clean enough once we'd asked for clean sheets.

Outside the hotel was a sauna, the pavement a mni market of silks pashminas (r100) sandlas, leather purses, ankle chains and cussion covers. We headed down to mcdonalds, which normally goes against...well my choice (im not well enough informed to technically say my principles) but they took the order at the table brought the food over and it was actually pretty good, they had no meat on the menu though (remember cows are holy here) and so the big mac was a mac tajmahal a curry sauce chicken bigmac.

Elephant island, an island reached by ferry from the gateway, the gateway itself a rather impressive monument, as we waited for the others have been completely ripped off by the taxi driver who cooly replied "yes" as i exclaimed "you ripped us off!" there were venders with giant balloons, roasted spicy nut sellers and fishermen a dozen at a time pulling huge boats up the gangway.

When the others arrived we had missed the last ferry, it didnt matter to me i was hardly excited about speding my last rupies on an island full of idols when there were silk on the next street for a pound each. Walking round the gateway two little boys latched onto me, the older one called Raoul the younger i forget, they took my hands and were like little boys really happy, i knew they wanted money but it didnt matter, i gave them some change and my bottle of water and asked them about their families. Their mother had a bad leg (possibly amputated) and either thier mother or sister had a one month old baby, they were out to beg from the tourists. When i told them i wouldnt give them more money they still wanted to come with us, but i said if they needed to take money home they should get money as we couldnt help them more, reluctently they left, only to find us in the market outside the hotel later. If i could have taken them home i would they were beautiful and not a bit hardened by begging or being out so young, it was surprising, maybe i was nieve as to their circumstances, but it didnt change the fact that they were gorgeous.

Another boy came along he didnt speak english, Raoul said he was asking for me to take him back to my country, i wasnt sure if his parents were sick or dead but either way it killed me, then came along a guy in a cart his legs were limp and skinny, i wasnt sure what was wrong with him but he couldnt walk, He didnt start by asking for money though he started talking to us, he said his job was to clean the cobbles, i wasnt sure i believed him, his tools looked more like a matt, but between him and the kids it was starting to feel like a begging que. we gave some money and left.

Eating dinner that night the food was fantastic but my eyes were firmly fixed on life in the street, the street kids, the taxis, the vendors and gringos. It was so wierd to see gringos again and for the first time i looked at them like many people had looked at me, i sa them walking round without a clue about what was appropriate, walking round in their own world, wnad wondering why men looked at them in their near naked state of western dress. i was shocked at myself, i was no better, I had spent so much money shopping i was no better but yet my perspective had changed.

In the cab from the airport into mumbai I had looked at the homeless and asked myself alot of questions - if I retruned to work or first study architecture could i come out and do something useful? was it better to stay in england earn the pound and send it out? how did you know where your money was going with so many stories of corruption in charities and overheads in legit ones? was it better to be out here and be a pair of hands? If i was moved by compassion but did nothing was i better than someone who felt nothing? We were westerners who were using 4/5 of the worlds resources for our 1/5 of the worlds population, as humans (and especially christians) surely our mimimum basic obligation was to pray and give finacially. I was overwhelmed by the work to be done in this city. where did you start?

As we were leaving the dirt didnt stop this city being attractive maybe it was the faded colours of the arachitecture, I hoped I wasnt romancing the place as we then drove past the rubbish and waste piled higher than the taxi. I started to think of things to do here, I dont know what will happen or whether i will return here, maybe it will fade in other pplans for the future, but maybe i will see mumbai again.

Lepers II

It was a 5am start, and down to the local train station, I loved the fact that we were using local transport and though my tired eyes watched as the life of the city started, even if it was only the amount of people who went to the bathroom on the railwaylines. As the guys came round "coppee, coppee, coppee, tea-masala, tea-masala, chapati, chapati" the scenery of slums and shelters gave way to lanscape and random, palm leaf farm shacks, bolders, hills and skies, it was a welcome break after the stench and squaler of the city. The wind rushed through the carriage and the sun streemed in on the chileano girls as the laughed over coffee.

We arrived in Darimaeuri and crossed the wide track sets only to find a little white van driving at us wildly sounding the horn, as he spun round and pulled up it was the ywam van and out hopped a short and brilliantly crazy indian pastor called david. Ive never met anyone who exclaims praise the lord! or hallelluya! quite so much. Dressed in a stone green safari-like suit, short grey hair and neat mustache the guy exuded warmth and energy.

He was building a church, orphanage and place to recieve teams there were 4 floors, and he was building it all on faith, he had no money. He fed us french toast tea and coffee before wisking us off in his crazy carpeted praise the lord van.

we drove out to a village, single room houses brightly painted, each with a plaque reading from some church in australia lined a path. They were constructing a small church, it was the builder i first noticed had no fingers on either hand and slowly but surely i started to notice various missing fingers, toes or disfiguration.

Everyone smiled, one woman with her baby came everywhere with us, we finished up in a small hut - there current church room. built in breeze block and painted cold aqua green it had tinsel woven design that hung benieth the fan and an old clock, a step at the front represented a stage.

David began in english ut quickly switched to another local language and then started everyone singing and clapping. Worship in india ppeared to be rather a monotone affair with constant clapping. more often than not accompanied to a jimbay drum, infact they accompanied everything with a drum beat whether in time or not. We did some worship songs with the guitar which must have sounded just as mad to them, did some quick dramas, the office, the backpack and chris gave a small preach before we prayed for people. No-one cried or was miraculosly healed, but we were there laying hands on them and praying for them i hope they knew some of jesus love a little through this at least.

David and the children prayed a blessing over the rice supply for the village before dividing it. some of the team dressed and cleaned the wounds and other did paper crafts with the kids i sent most of the time stopping two little boys from punching each other in the head over who had the most crayons, but as we were sat there one of the girl who had been sat colouring in shuffled off in the same position using her arms to move herself, her little legs still tucked under her body it was then that it hit me everyone here had or would have leperacy. you had to be exposed to leperacy for a long time continuosly to catch it, but they were completly removed from society and no-one but david would come out here.

we returned to the house for lunch and a break I sat and played cards with some of the kids i had no idea what they were saying or how to play but that didnt matter to them as they sorted my cards and exclaimed "deus! aunty" everyone was refered to as aunty here. We sat in Davids new and still being constructed church with plastic seats, we were going to do a slot for the village, since we had been gone the appeared a throne-like chair and material backdrop, we looked at each other ratehr baffled as it was only us there. Then a girl of about 13 or 14 came in she was dressed in full traditional dress, complete with the jewels down the forhead that only a bride wears, david informed us that she had come of age and was a woman, there was a big celebration planned nad people werec oming from far away but would be late, so they started to beat a drum, the monotone singing and clapping began. Then someone joined in the the irregular beat of a yamaha keyboard, not in the slightest bit in time or fitting but everyone continued without raising an eyebrow.

We were asked to do something for them as the people started to arrive, we had 25 mins before our train was due so we got up did some worship and tried to be poilte as they started to put the yamaha keyboard beats to our worship. One of the girls gave her testimony and we said our goodbyes as we left for the station in the praise the lord van. back to the coppee, coppee tea-masala chapati train home.

Orphans II : faces of campaign issues

We found out before returning for our second day that some of those beautiful well behaved gorgeous children had been sacrificed into child prostitution before being taken in by the orphanage, sacrificed to gods in prostitution!....the shock, the sickness, what kind of god did people have if thats what they believed pleased them? (Im not about to embark on our god is better than theres, for starters, i believe thre is only one god), but there are things in this country that I thought only existed in biblical times. Rural parts of this state still have temple prostitution and wife burning, dowry (the paying to marry off people) though now illegal is still practiced, and the hindu cast system still keeps people in poverty. There were many thing things I was discovering about this country that shocked me.

We went back with some stuff to educate the children on personal hygene with the alterior motive to include self worth and value in gods eyes to combat the past scars and mindsets without directly tackling things we did not have time to open. We taught on brushing teeth and washing hands, and taking care of you body parts. we washed the childrens hands to show them how (it sounds so simple in the west but here dont forget you eat with one hand and clean yourself with the other, this was simple but essencial teaching) and also as a form of loving (and appropriate) contact, praying and blessing them quietly as we did so. these kids were beautiful, it finally gave a face to things you simply know of or campaign against.

Benny Pradash

I had written him off as a skinny hippy, with exception to his talent on guitar, he had a high pitched voice and talked rather alot, but he was an intersting character and became rather a familiar face during our month in india. He soon changed my mind as he came round to the house and kept us entertained sparadically turning up on his scooter with his newly designed 20 string guitar, an indian with an open and westernised mind, he travelled the world playing for free and openly or more cryptically preaching the gospel at every opportunity even in china.
He talked about inidan customs the good the bad and the ugly and made us laugh with his directness his retort to tanias comment about everyone being skinny was " oh no, i can indroduce you to some fat blokes if you like." he cracked us up and would always stay telling stories till the early hours of the morning. He was a character, he went all over the owrld touring more places than a rockstar and all by gods provision, to preach and entertain. If he comes your way, put him up, take him in or simply go and listen to this crazy skinny hippy, hes rather good.

children

A month ago id never worked with kids, i held small children at a distance (slightly like some women hold a football) and when it came to creating a programme for 5 and a half hours of kids entertaiment teaching etc i was crying 'god what am i doing here!?' but today i was walking around with a small childs hand in each of mine, making sheep noises and getting them laughing like the best of them, dont ask me what happened i the last month, it was a tourchurous month of being well and truely out of my depth and comfort zone, but ive learn more about myself , my relationship with god, my relationship with others than in most years ive been alive.

We did a four day sumer school which at only 2 and a half hours each day, it was a dodle after the first tow days here, we had material for them, the experience and almost some enthusiasm as i took the mic. The area although a mix of houses, cramped apartments, breeze block rooms, was surprisingly cheerful the houses painted in bright colours like cuba made even the smell of waste fade into the bright seen, with autos parked up and cows wandering amoungst the rubbish and dirty but smiling children looking back at you.

We had seen some sights here but most were glad to be heading home next week, we had preached, prayed, performed and played and apart from the few who felt india was the place they would be in the future most of us were looking forward to the freedom and few degrees difference of madrid once again. only time would tell what we would miss, but i cant talk too soom, we still had the lepers and Bombay to go.

prayer walking

Wednesday and they were going to do campus ministry, same as last wednesday i felt sick, had pains tearing across my stomach, but i was going. The team had battled with stomach problems on and off the worst of which was cotty she had been weak and throwing up day and night for over 3 days, one time we had 5 of the team up all night thowing up and the rest. I was praying it wasnt my turn and this would turn out to be nothing.

we went to the city college/university where some of the ywam ministry had links to, we were going to prayer walk the campus and discreetly pray, it was 39 degrees was walked around this granite, glass and quartstone lush architecture, i had been expecting something hurrendous but this was like a hotel. They were planning to bulid a gym pool and and cinema for the media students too, it was almost enough to make you study in india til you thought of the traffic and burning burning waste you drove through.

Prayer walking or driving was still new in practice for me, i knew poeple did it had read books on prayer that inspired me to do it more, but this was the first time i was actively prayer walking. Saturday we had left at 6.30 in the AM to drive around the ringroad and pray at the gates around the city, to pray for india and in particular this state and city and wherever city each gate and junction lead to. It was a good chance to see the place, from the largest temples in asia the shrines and temples to gods which they visit only to appease and ask not to come to their house. The call-centres the west have built and make money from, the wages of which arent slave labour as thought but a decent wage, so decent they are causing a problem as the young people working night shifts in them dont know what to do with and so are spending drinking causing further problems for the culture.

The culture was wierd, or ratehr taking time to adapt to, walking into a coffee shop and seeing indians in western clothng and us in their traditional clothing you felt like a lemon, but at least people we were visiting seemed more comfortable to speak to us, i had herd accounts of past visits with more western dress rules and the difference in which people had spoken to the team. I was adapting slowly but surely, the roof was still a daily escape and i had my moments (or hours), but we were finding things to smile about, not least that my stomach was ok and i was not going to die. ;)

testimony and ministry

Friday night we had done a slot at the YWAM service, i got up and told my testimony i figured i should do it sometime, i was still terrified as i stood there, of course you sit down after a think of a million things you should have said or included, but hey. we performed a dance which these days i can at elast grin through although im not sure i will ever stop cringing at. we sang a couple of worship songs and sods law says you get stuck at the front in the spot light when you dont know the words to half of it (cut me some slack its in spanish) as i ginned like an idiot and debaited making up the words or doing nothing they dimmed the spotlight on me, (much to my amusement) but i was on stage or up front of something nearly everyday now, and everyday it was something bigger and scarier than the day before.

Sunday dressed in best (and hottest) punjabies we went to the church of victor and manjula a couple whose kids we had entertained and taught for the first few days of my trip. we bumped down this mud road past the slumbs to a field with yaks, kids playing with tyres adn women in saris stood at a distance, everywhere looked like a national geographic cover shot.

Inside everyone sat on the floor, women to the right men to the left, the indians seemed to be big on learning by repeating whether prayers or songs they always seemed to repeat the leader.
We were doing the whole service so we played some worship songs, it has taken me the last 5 years to leearn how to worship god properly, to ignore a room ful of people andpraise god for being god, to focus on him properly and be unafraid to show emotion reaction or show nothing but pray silently or talk to god honestly about where your at, it was a challenging subject that god was always leading me on. But now i was at the front of a church and i had to worship with a load of people looking at me while i did it! i didnt want it to be a performance, we wanted to worship god!

My friends tanis and chris got up, one gave their testimony of how she became a christian the other preached, i was amazing by their courage. for me the test came at the end. Ministry still freiks me out, going out into a crowd of people to pray for them often without speaking the same language of having a translater, relying on god to guide you what to pray. I prayed for numerous women, terrified i walked between them trying not to step on someone foot, or sari or head, more terrified about praying for people. But half way through praying for this woman she was crying, the pastors wife came over and started to pray with me, all i know is that the holy spirit touched her, it was nothing to do with me.

James bond

We were going to meet some street kids, they had been living at the train stattion and were now fed by a guy who nopened up his house, his name - james bond. I was dissappointed to find his card didnt back this up but what was i expecting?

I was getting used to the madness of india, the giant bamboo ladder store next to the stables complete with yak and goats while the women squatted washing and beating the clothes by the slumbs the huge idol shrine adorned in flowers stood next to the little chapel at the end. so was the way in india. There was always something burning generally rubbish sometimes waste, this city was pruducing 2,200 tones a day and rapidly running out of plaes to dump it.

When we got to james bonds house we'd planned to be flexible depending how these street boys were, we didnt know whether to expect children or small men, all i knew was that they wouldnt be like the boys or teens of europe. The certainly werent, mainly because they ranged from 20 something to 31 they were infact very malnurished skinny but no doubt about it fully grown men. James had been going to the train station to eat with speak to a gain the trust of these guys for 6 years, these days he had a house and was able to provide some ind of home place for these guys. It wasnt without problems though, but james was an incredible man, mainly as he told of his own childhood. his father was a drunk who regulaly abused his mother, destroyed her certificates to teach and had one night tried to kill her infront of james and his sister, it was james who had had to make his dad to leave. I was amazed that someone with that past had not only got past it to help others but hadnt let it turn him into a man eaten by bitterness, but a man of faith who testified to gods grace.

Goyo told his testimony to the guys how god had turned his life around from drugs and hopelessness, he kept it brief being through two translaters, but the guys repsonded and talked of christ and wanting to see their own lives turned around. we prayed for the guys and james too who had seen alot of problems because of the ministry. Shawls over our heads to pray and not allowed to lay hands on the men was wierd, i blurted out before i could stop myself asking james what could we pray for him as everyone else seemed busy, but he didnt care too much about formalities and told us we could pray and lay hands on anyone. he was grateful for the prayer and support.

the stables

if you'd told me or described to my friends that i would go to another country and perform on stage dances dramas and public speaking i would have laughed my head off, so would they - you just described my worst nightmare. still i had three choices i could leg it, keep my head down or throw myself into it and hope to get something out of it.

last night we went to an orphage and old peoples home, thats right you read it right, an old peoples home AND orphanage. we arrived to find that the kids were away at summer day camps and the oldies were having a nap, until one of the workers came out and said there were 10 kids here, so we went and spent some time with them, they sang for us we sang for them, we did some dramas and then prayed for them. took a snap and left, its about as uinfulfilling as it gets i dont think we really blessed them apart from actually praying blessings over them.

across the courtyard we went into what was still basically stables, not even converrted stables but cleaned out wack em in stables old peoples home, a section 'the sick room' where there were mentall ill and disabled people one woman looked really freiky we were told she was 25 she had the frame of a girl and large beady lgased eyes and sat incoherant smiling and looking others were bedridden and some mearly curious.
The next bit had old ladies who smiled and i managed to find my feet and my voice, put my hands together and say namaste, ask their names inquire how they were and remembering how important touch was to the lepers, made a pont of holding they hand or touching their arm smiling and being warm. They looked like they hadnt seen people from the outside world for years my guess is they hadnt, it was the first time i felt like i was doing something that ment something to someone, talking and laughing and praying for these little old ladies in a stable.

orphans feed and lepers

The next place was an orphange, only 17 kids currently and the owner, a beautifullt gentle man whose wife had sadly died a year ago only 3 weeks after giving birth to their son, he was throwing him a 1st birthday party the day we were there. The kids were gorgeous and the food lovely they gave us cake and fruit and soda and more cake until we could eat no more, i wasnt sure whether it was rude to refuse they wouldnt take no for an answer they would stand there and keep offering (of course i gladly make a pig of myself on sweet stuff but this was ridiculous) I wouldnt mind but after that just was we were preparing to leave they brought out dinner, and im not talking a small snack or sandwhich a fuill plate of veg meat and heaped high with rice, not only that but meat and veg here was a rarity they would have spent all their money on it to leave it was so rude. we sat and looked at each other wondering how on earth we were gong to do this, hands ready and off you go. we rolled bak to the minibus an hour later.

The following day we borrowed a pastors house and treated them back we made them dinner (no we didnt treat them back like that - i wasnt in charge) we gave them gifts prayed for them and generally treated them.

Yesterday we went to a christian conference, we were to be doing a 'slot' I was not only getting increasingly frustrated by the lack of mercy missions and 'performing' but also very aware this morning i would be stood infront of 3-400 people making a complete ass of myself doing a choreographed dance, dramas and even some public speaking, i had started deciding would i bolt for home or madrid? everything that could go wrong did the music stopped and we actually sang while we danced until the music came back on, i caught sight of one of the team forgot my next step and nearly died, keep smiling and remember it cant last forever. I didnt although i think it came close, next the dramas, and introducing and explaining stuff, after making such a fool of myself it wa easy and i couldnt believe i felt relaxed with a microphone in my hand i near enough preached explaininy the drama (dont worry i spared them) we sat down and all that was eft was to sit around for the rest of the day and be intriged and somewhat bored at time by the amount that people spoke, man eveyone seemed to have alot to say, i think they could have talked people out of church.

Today wa the leper colony, we knew it would be rough but we didnt know how rough. I sat and watched a video of the work they do there and cried there and tehn in the office, people left for dead kicked out of society and chased away by their own families for having leperocy, aids cancer, and mental illness, many of them found uncouncious with and black flies in their wounds. This guy cared for them cleaned them up and helped them, there were currently 220 patients and 9 staff. we prayed with the guy and then went trhough expecting a large room or small hall the deal here seemed to be concrete and plastic chairs) but we walked into a make shift hospital for the dying with beds everywhere, the staench of urine and facease and general sickness, there was a dead person in the corner.

After yesterday i was nominated to speak, so i got past my nerves introduced everyone and put my mind on autopilot, we sang worship songs and with a translater did the dramas, we talked about chirst and we did an alter call we prayed with people several adults and children gave their lives to christ. However on the way home i became so frustrated that i was tuck on an evangleistic outreach and not an international aid programme i saw a worldvision 4x4 and thought of the practical stuff, the 'doing'. There is still so much of this morning i havent begun to process but the next three weeks would have more.

Dont hit a cow

At 5 in the morning we sat in the heat waiting for our contacts to meet us, outside the airport was a familiar madness for me but for some of the girls this was the first they had seen of the third world. cows, crazy little 3 wheled rickashaws that had a driver and a motor, made their heads spin and the musical horn that sounds uncannily like a 1980s bad ring tone. There seems to be no law to the traffic in India other than you don't hit a cow.

Including our contacts there are 16 of us staying in a small bungalow, our dorm had the only western toilet and so far i haven't had my head taken off by the fan as i climb into my bunk. everything is together I'm not allowed out alone, when i gave my Independence to god i wondered how that would work in a practical way well this is it, its called how not to kill someone when you have to do everything as a group and have no freedom or Independence. The roof terrace my lifesaver so slipping on my compulsory dupati (scarf to cover ones boobs) over my Punjabi (tunic shirt that must cover your bum and have at least short sleeves) and circus like pants i take a rolled mat and head out to the roof at night to enjoy some space (and currently a full moon)

I dont think a day went by in the first week i didnt spend half the day talking myself out of leaving, the schedule was hectic there seemed to be no aid or mercy missions instead it was announced we were doing two days of a childrens camp with no less than 5 hours a day of programme to to think of! we had been asked while in madrid to prepare some stuff but between us they totalled an hour, and what do you do with 120 kids in 35 degrees, especially if your me! oh dear goodness i nearly ran away there and then.

I dont know how we did it but we did, not only that but we went back and did it the next day too, i stood there and announced things over-acted in silly dramas and sang (within range of people with ears.)

on a mission....as a missionary.

In the last 24 hours i think i had gone through every emotion in the book, last night being a celebration of Rebeccas birthday and a general party together, it had been along time since i had found it so difficult to stay in a room full of people, i just couldnt settle and as the night wore on it was more and more uncomfortable. I knew i wouldnt be seeing some of these guys for a month especially my closest friend hannah, luckily my roomate christina was coming to india and by now I was comfortable with everyone else. there were so many things running round my head, all i wanted to do was leave get a drink and a cigerette, the night before missions vic sort your head out! i didnt go to a bar, or touch a ciggerette.

I hate goodbyes, this morning i stood there with a coffee in hand and said see you later to half the team, they were going to Bilbao in north spain for a week before heading out to morocco, they would be back two days after us too, like the place wasnt eerie enough today without them.
After lunch I headed into the park, beyond topping up my tan this was the last bit of alone time i would see for a month, short of getting up at 5am and going on the roof terrece I hear they have (not an impossible feat) I would be with a minimum of two other people for the next 30 days, coupled with the fact we had been advised sarcasm wasnt accepted or rather understood this would be a stretching of my personality to say the least. Still as I sorted clothes in the basement I thought back to indonesia and the kids there, once you had met them you would have thrown everything out of your backpack to make more room for stuff for them. It was time to forget about the alone time and focus on the month ahead, taking my quiet time in the morning would be imperative, without spending time with god it would be easy to forget why you were doing all this, what it was you were sharing and why you were going to sleep on a floor with 10 other people.

The last weeks teaching had motivated us to think about our testimonies, what had brought you to god? the changes a relationship with god had made. I had been on the road so many times before but this would be different in everyway. I was nervous and excited at the same time dying to get back to something that makes my blood race, travel, adventure, doing something proactive to help people, only difference was this time I would be going as a christian, not that I hadnt travelled before but I was actually going as a christian. I wanted god to use me. I had been focussed on the relief work when applying, it was easier to talk to people about for one thing, and cold evangelism was scary and had never appealed, how i ended up at mission school i dont know but last week something impacted me, the importance of people knowing christ.

Spanish ham & red wine

It had been a couple of weeks since he said he would call by and I was mentally dialling down the whole idea, he had said he would call me and two texts later i was feeling like anything more would be imposing myself on him when the man was clearly busy and maybe not that interested anyways.

But I went against every independant bone in my body and texted one last time, he phoned back and left a message, he had been out of madrid for medical reasons and wanted to see me before i left for india. I was extactic. I listened to his message about 3 times just to hear his voice, and went to see if the leaders would let me take a night off during the schedule.

I managed to narrow it down to being only 10 mins late this time including geting the bus a metro and finding out i was a 100 numbers down the main street at 9pm in heels.
It was a different restaurant with only about 10 tables in the whole place there was 6 sectioned off with posh white table cloths a waiter dressed like a butler and ornamentation that made it feel like the Ritz. The personal service by the owners was incredible and I have now sat at a table where the waiter swept the table between courses with some posh silverware implement.

He phoned my mum and announced that he 'was taking dinner with our daughter' my heart melted. It was incredible, We had a bottle of the best red wine I've ever tasted and ate traditional Spanish hams followed by steak while we talked about life, his work, the mission school and the future.

I hadn't wanted to bring up his family i felt it was his place to speak about them I didn't want him to feel pushed or invaded, i wanted him to feel safe and comfortable in this relationship that was forming. I didn't know whether to say your daughters or my sisters i couldn't remember all their names either so I couldn't even name them, It was he who brought up the conversation starting by refering to my sisters. He talked about talking me to the region where he's from, meeting his brother, and in the summer he was going to tell his oldest daughter about me and we would meet.

The strawberries and cream were almost as incredible as the night but sooner enough it was over until i got back from india, he was talking about days out even taking some of my friends along, and going to the football together. It was all rather like a dream. Its amazing.

The Bulldozer and the gospel

I was starting to get my head around last weeks teaching, and more than ready to go to India, adventure, being back on the road again, being active and outward looking, not being sat on my arse and looking at my belly button.

The weeks teacher was different from the rest he made Jon look timid, he was simply a bulldozer for Christ, in many ways how you imagine Paul to have been. He had an arrogant streak and something about him made you want to be a smart arse but you could help but respect him, he spoke the truth, the bottom line and challenged you on a point blank about your faith and what you were doing for Christ.

90% of evangelicals will never bring anyone to Christ in their lifetime, why do we call ourselves evangelicals then? if you claim to live in him you must walk as jesus did. If your favourite shop had a 90% sale on would you not phone everyone in your mobile address list? if you knew there was a bomb in a buliding would you not go and tell everyone? When you receive good news do you not go and tell everyone you know? if you love someone don't you want them to have the best things you discover? why can we evangelise about an amazing restaurant or new flavor of ice-cream but we are scared of being thought wierd and rejected over jesus, your saviour, your relationship with god, the peace of the holy spirit!?

Before you run off to to evangelise, what is a christian? and what are the top world view questions? who am I? What does it mean to be human? why does god allow suffering, evil etc? What am I here for? what is the nature of the world - Cause and effect, what happened to it? what can be done about it? how to cope - issue of salvation? And what do we say back....god loves you and has a plan for you...and man is sinful and separated from god, you can receive him and experience god. It may be true but it doesn't answer a single one of their questions, its simply an 'agree to this and say the prayer and your 'in'' mentality.

Easy believism: 'jesus is here to make your life better' coming from a humanistic attitude. jesus is not a self improvement seminar. Its not all about you its about God! Why dont we talk about creation, the fall or what living in a fallen world means, we dont ever explain that sin gives authority to Satan, (are we simply scared of sounding like a nutter by mentioning the devil?) The cross was gods price, in giving free will to man, he knew that could mean giving his son and why? because the wages of sin are death. An what is our price? Giving your life to Jesus to be in relationship with god. you were created to be in relation with him and bring others to know him.

We all know the verse 'for god so loved the world he gave his only son so that all who believed in him may not die but have eternal life'. Well eternal life is not about living forever, its knowing the only true god and Jesus Christ and when it talks about the 'lost' it refers to those who dont know god. Sin is broken relationship with god, living separated from the original purpose that god has for you.

I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes (Rom 1v16)

Theology headspin

Last week had been different, teaching on the holy spirit it hadn't had the craziness one might expect of people laughing crying or falling about in the spirit, but rather some head messing theology, I wasn't used to it and it made my mind spin, what did i believe and why? who had taught it did i believe conflicting things, what did the bible say, and had i seen things that were just people rather than of god? as one teacher had pointed out you can make most things fit in the bible if you take a verse out of context. I was hungry for truth, why were things were so complicated, did it all make sense? why wasn't it simple? I wanted to know if i was going to tell people about Jesus was there really so much other stuff to complicate it along the way.

Did the holy spirit live in you or upon you? did you just think he lived in you? had you ever had baptism of the holy spirit? was it cut and dry that you didn't have the holy spirit if you hadn't been baptised in him or was he with you? was it the spirit of Christ that gave the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience,goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control, or did I think it was unequivocally the holy spirit? was john Elijah that was prophesied in the old testament or did he just have the spirit of Elijah on him? why could i except the existence of the holy spirit but struggled about the spirit of Elijah being on someone? the laying on of hands to impart gifts, did i believe that someone had to lay their hands on you and pray for you to have spiritual gifts, the manifestations of the holy spirit? and could everybody really speak in tongues and prophesy even if it wasn't their gifting?

Hannah and I sat Sunday night in the Moroccan bar but instead of falling around laughing we took the week's notes and every bible Scripture given and went through everything with a tooth comb, the feelings of being overwhelmed and frustrated slid away as we searched for the truth. maybe it was the manc in me but I didn't easily trust everything anyone taught, i flitted between feeling like a rebellious cynic and the 'test everything' in Thessalonians. Studying to get to the bottom of everything and asking god to reveal the truth was the only way.

But someone wisely reminded me of something jesus had said

29"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.^[e] 30Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'^[f] 31The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'^[g]There is no commandment greater than these." Mark 12 v 29-31

So I would push on and keep asking god to show me the truth, and in the meantime this weeks teacher on evangelism would keep the rest of my mind occupied, this guy was a bulldozer for Christ he had such a passion to see people saved it would be an interesting week, but India would be a welcome break from sitting on my arse and having my beliefs, thoughts, relationship with god and self-image tested. India would bring a whole new set of challenges of its own, not least not being allowed to be on your own for over a month. we leave saturday....just needed to buy 10 packs of immodium and i would be ready.

park life

Retiro park possibly one of the best parks in the world, lakes roman colonades, drummers, posers, mimers funny shaped trees Victorian glass houses and waterfalls. This was the heart of Madrid, and we were there for the day to talk to people about god. - scary? just slightly.

Armed with coffee, guitars a couple of tables and chess sets, we headed to the lake, a sign saying free prayer not to be confused with the parks many palm readers, card readers, heather selling gypsies and harry krishners. it was an eclectic mix but a bunch of Christians in high spirits singing some decent worship tunes handing out free latte and offering prayer attracted people all day, the range of conversations varied from the aggressive to those needing prayer to those giving their lives to Christ right there and then.

I walked over to a guy doing a kids snake thing, his puppet snake costume didn't hide his tired eyes as i offered him a coffee his face didn't really brighten, he was by trade a circus performer with by all accounts decent acts but the police didn't like him doing on them. He inquired what we were doing i told him about our plans for the day, for India his response was cutting 'why cant you leave those people alone? they don't need your help' my reply was that washing feeding and clothing street kids, showing them a bit of gods love in a practical way was i'm sure welcome help, showing people here in Madrid a bit of gods love worship music, offering prayer and as i nodded to his coffee free hot drinks were always a blessing to people on a surprisingly cold day' he couldn't argue. He was annoyed at something so I didn't prod but wished him a good day and left.

I couldn't rest though something about him kept bugging me so after praying with a friend about various people the group were speaking with, the coffee started to run out, i took one over and waited patiently for a break in his snake act the kids were loving. He stalled i could tell he didn't want to speak to me again, he used his snake to tell the kids to wait as he desperately foregged in his bag for some music. I prayed ' god your will be done, overrule this situation if you want me to stick around and speak to him' he gave up trying to work the music system and started to sing - badly and looking rather bonkers the crowd dispersed and i walked over with the coffee. He was flustered as he tried to put the snake back in the costume, 'the coffees running out thought you might like one before its gone,' 'do ya reckon i could get 'em to worship this in India then!?' he quipped, what do they want your western god for when they have thousands?' 'theres only one god who gives you true peace. can i pray for anything for you?' his face changed, ' I don't believe in anything out of my own, my own, erm..' 'capability' i finished 'capability, thank you' " well if you change your mid i'm just over there, your welcome to come over for a chat or if there is anything i can pray for you, if not have a good day and enjoy the coffee.' 'his face softened the defenses dropped and looking slightly perplexed he muttered 'thank you'.

I later spoke to a guy who said he knew god he didn't believe, it made no sense even in Spanish without translation, the guy said he spoke to spirits, he intrigued me. I got into conversation with him at the end, i wish i hadn't wasted the hour previous being bored. I was dying to know why this guy thought what he thought, his image of god was sad it was disapointed, i wish id had time to go deeper, He showed me some aramaic writting and gave me a little on a sheet he couldnt translate what he believed but this scribble was ment to mean something, i was dying to give him one one my drawings and write a scripture on the back but they were all too personal.
something about him kept me thinking so i would pray for him and if it was gods will i would meet him again and if not hopefully a bunch or happy Christians would make him think that maybe there was something to god that could bring joy. Maybe im just nieve, but there is something to jesus that you cant get anywhere else, face to face evangelism was terrifying but talking to someone really really about what you believed was fasinating.

the one with the well

It was sunday, saturday I had yet again made the mistake of staying at the base as I went through the weeks notes, the things that had been doug up resounded round my mind. I sat frustratedly looking out the window at the rain.

Sunday night I had made the effort to go out with everybody and not be exlusive but groups and decisions werent a compatible mix. As they headed out of the pizza bar the real madrid game continued and i headed in the other direction, i craved alone time and to explore the streets of alcala again, i wanted to head for the bar with the well, the one with the quirky light fitting and gorgeous old wood beams, somewhere that was my escape normally with hannah and i wasnt about to tell the others about .

As i sat looking around I pulled my notebook out and started to write in my normal sarcastic and slightly bridget jones style, but stopped and started to speak to god, craving peace not the turmoil that was inside, I wrote my conversation with him as we conversed.

I left the bar feeling calm, and like he was there beside me, the streets were beautiful in the night air as i headed back to the base for the next week, treasuring my alone time and freedom, god was good and his peace was better than any else I could run to, no matter how good i was at running, just had to get used to putting into practice talking to him instead of running off.

kilometre zero

The physical madness of this week was pushing last week away as we cleaned the streets told testimonies in Madrid gave away coffee in the park and tonight would be dancing and doing dramas in the street, in front of people, people with eyes.

It was a mad week with no routine we had done free windscreen washing in Torrejon centre although its easy to see why early missionaries made mistakes i wondered what the ratio of blessed to scared people had been as we grew in confidence and stormed cars in a bid to clean them before the lights changed.

Some of the others had given their testimony in sol the main plaza in Madrid where every main road came to and where every km in Spain was measured from so hence the name kilometre zero. An evangelistic organisation had taken the name and preached there every week night at 8. It was this very group i had herd the last time we had gone to Madrid amongst the madness of thinking about my dad I had been struck by a girl i had herd preaching but she was different there was no 'your all going to hell talk' you so often here condemning people whether pastors of murderers, there was no 'end i nigh' talk either she had simply talked about the love of god and a relationship with him. It had been the first time i had herd someone talk in the street about Jesus with no cringe factor, was my perspective changing or was it simply refreshing truth?

There were five people who prepared to give their testimony I didn't do it, the idea of face to face evangelism terrified me, the idea of being a the front or middle of a room where people could hear or see me terrified me so how i was about to stand on a big red box in the cities main square was beyond me....maybe one day.

I talked to a couple of people, one guy was from the Philippines and we got chatting he had asked me what i was doing in Spain and i told him a little, i didn't mention my dad, why would i that was private but i felt a strange urge to tell him, like i should and so i told him, as i did so his eyes widened. He had a 3 year old daughter and was terrified the mother was moving to England and he would never see her again. As we talked i reassured him that if he wanted to be a part of her life he wouldn't loose contact, that she was his daughter and somewhere inside she would always have a desire to know her father. I wasn't 'soul winning' as they call it but it was speaking directly into someones worst fear, which was good.