Saturday 6 December 2008

CHRISTMAS IS COMING!

ONE OF MY FAVOURITE CHRISTMAS ICONS of 'Father Christmas'. NOT a picture of some plump, jovial, grandfather in a Scandinavian track suit scattering presents from his Sleigh in the Sky, but of a more real man; a man of God caring for others. It is said that Nicholas Klaus was in fact a Bishop in one of the poorest areas of Europe in the middle ages. And not so much a bishop fond of regalia and pomp either, but rather one who having his own roots in poverty, constantly remembered the discomfort and need of the poor. A man who gave, and a man who saved. A man who especially at the Season remembering his Lord's Birth in the manger that night in Bethlehem, set himself to visit the poorest homes and shelters in his diocese in order to encourage, uplift and provide for those who had nothing. They say he disguised himself, and as much as possible left gifts without letting those he gave to know he had visited them. And often in his provision was something for a child so that his name became especially loved by children who were touched by his affection. Children who knew what it was to need affection; children who did not already have too much, and who often shared the tears and distress of their parents unable to provide for themselves. This aspect is emphasised yet again in the illustration opposite and taken from a German children's book printed in the early nineteenth century. The aged, kindly child loving Bishop. Yet in truth this man was self effacing, and did all his good works secretly and without any ostentation. His real mission in life was to show by his own life the compassion, love and mercy of Christ who was his Master and his Lord. Truly a man of God seeking nothing for himself, not even a name. I think he would be disappointed to see how much attention he is given in our world, and how little credit and recognition has gone to God. A God who still loves little children, and still loves the poorest sinner.
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LAST WEEK I left off writing to comb my hair and rush out to a function to settle a 'Bride Price' - amongst other things. I had envisaged myself in for a somewhat lengthy afternoon of semi boredom! All for a good cause of course - since I was there to promote - rather remotely - the cause of my son Michael in securing his chosen bride! Esther was of course with me, Daryl, Manu and Helen, also, AND a supporting cast of some 15 other friends of the family. It was a beautiful day weather wise, warm with clear skies and a light breeze. Michael was in UK wondering what would be happening! He survived the ordeal!

We arrived at the Bride's parent's house about 1p.m. The ladies in our party traditionally had to sing outside the house before we were ceremoniously let in! They also jigged around a bit as they sang - quite joyously. The doors finally opened and our entire party welcomed into the garden of the house by the bride's family and friends - more than three times as many as ourselves. Awnings had been put in place in the garden and chairs arranged, and a buffet meal also set out and arranged for all. There were speeches and prayers and presentations. Much laughter and halfway through a few of our party separated ourselves together with a few of the Bride's family to discuss the important issue of what the Bridegroom would offer for his intended bride - and whether it could be enough! Well it is not for me to share the intimate details of all that took place, but surfice to say that it only too fifteen minutes to settle everything with much happiness and satisfaction on both sides. Janet - Michael's fiancee - WAS not at this very private discussion, but she was THERE and at the gathering and was asked publicly if she really did love our son Michael enough to really want to marry him - which she affirmed with demure shyness. Lastly it should have been that the Couple should be prayed for by the parents and pastors present. However since Michael wasn't there it had to be a little different, and so Janet had to stand with our younger son Manu as Michael's 'Stand In'. THEN the hands were laid and prayers were said, and the Presence and Blessing of God was very real. It was 6.30pm. It had been a wonderful occasion, and a time when two families began to be ONE. Now the final arrangements for the Wedding can go ahead. Nothing definite at this time, but when we know officially and finally I will of cause let you all know.

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On the 12th December 1968 I flew out of Gatwick Airport on my way to Kenya. It was the first time I had ever been in an aircraft. Later I was to write "It was dark and wet the night I flew from Gatwick. It was 10p.m., and I had left my sixty year old Mother crying in the airport Lounge. I was not to see her again until March 1972, and in all the years that were ahead until her death in 1988, I would only be able to spend a total of three months with her. I had no idea what a sacrifice that would be to her until much later, when I also had become a parent. I was aware that she would miss me (as her only child) of course, but I also knew that she was not alone, and would be well cared for. For the rest I had to leave it to the Lord. Some of my friends felt that I was being selfish, and just pleasing myself by flying off on some hair-brained stunt to Africa, and said so in no uncertain words. But there was nothing I could do but trust the Lord even in this. It was hard.
The VC10 taxied down the runway and lifted off into the star studded night sky. I was leaving twenty-eight years of my life behind, but I hardly thought about it. I had never flown before, and was a little apprehensive as well as simple minded about the whole thing. Where WAS the parachute..? I had not heard a word of the Cabin Announcements being made as we took off.
Then - "This is your Captain speaking! We have just attained our cruising altitude of forty two thousand feet...."
"Excuse me!" I hailed a passing stewardess. "Can you tell me please, where is the parachute stowed?" She looked a me a little oddly, and said with a smile "There are no parachutes on this Flight sir, but should you have any problem there is a brown paper bag in the seat pouch just in front of you..~" She passed quickly on with a widening grin! I sat staring at the paper bag; it conjured up quite a picture! I turned to my Bible and opened at Isaiah 42v5-7
'Thus saith God the Lord.....
I the Lord have called you in righteousness, and I will hold your hand;
I will keep you and give you as a covenant to the people...'
(Words that talked of the Messiah of course, but to me they spoke to my own life)
A little later, as supper was being served, I reached chapter 43v21 -
'This people I have formed for myself;
they shall shew forth my praise.'
I felt assured and confirmed in my faith. Surely God had called me to preach, and to be an Evangelist to the people of Kenya. I would definitely get there - with or without a parachute! I saw my name floating on Banners across the streets of Nairobi...wow! How vain glorious and ignorant I was. Truly His Ways are not ours, and His Thoughts far from our own. We know nothing as we ought. The night sped by, and I awoke to find we were nearing Entebbe, Uganda, where I and a few others were to get off. I had to change to a local Flight to get to Kenya my final destination.
As I walked down the steps of the BV10 Jet that had flown me the four thousand odd miles from England non stop to Entebee, Uganda, a soft warm rain was falling. Yet the rain that was filling my eyes was not from above, but from within, where a spiritual dam just seemed to burst. There standing on the shiny runway outside the toy-like Airport Building, were African people; all with smiling faces; Officials and Air Hostesses running forward with huge umbrellas. And suddenly I had 'come home'. These were my people, and it just didn't matter that they came from Uganda and not Kenya my ultimate destination. Africans were my people, and standing there in that warm friendly rain, I knew it as surely as if God Himself had said it to me out-loud.
It was Friday, 13th December 1968" (A Cry From the Street by John A. Green)

I arrived that day at Kisumu Airport, Kenya with only an English sixpence in my pocket and the promise of nothing from anybody for my future support. I was met by the Director of the small faith mission I had come to join knowing that nothing would come from him either! My hope was in God alone. I had no return ticket to the UK - my bridges were all well and truly burnt..... FORTY YEARS PASSED.

A SPAN OF 40 YEARS is somehow special.
It is somehow Complete in itself, like a chapter of a book or an era of history. it has a Beginning and it has an Ending. Moses had his first 40 years in Egypt. He was a Prince for most of that time. Then he left Egypt and became a humble shepherd for the next 40 years until he was eighty! FINALLY he returned to Egypt as a prophet and led the People of Israel out of slavery into freedom for the last 40 years of his life. Three distinct parts to his life. Each part different but connected.
MY LIFE has not been divided up like Moses, but I do feel that when I started Testimony Faith Homes in August 1969 it was the Beginning of what is now here. And that beginning had ITS Beginning at my arrival at Kisumu Airport on the 13th December 1969, forty years ago.
Everything that God put upon my heart to do in 1969 has now come to pass. We have four family Homes, a School, and a Christian Fellowship. The years have passed, and 40 years has gone by. What now?
We shall be remembering my arrival at Kisumu next Saturday. Perhaps it will be the prelude to something NEW just as my arrival was the prelude to TFH being born in 1969. Perhaps in August 2009 Testimony Faith Homes will see something NEW begin! A new CHAPTER in its experience. I feel it coming over me, and I am quite excited about it. NO, I do not think I am going to live another 40 years! But I just feel something IS ending, and that something NEW is about to commence....... WOW! How wonderful to still be a child in His hands; waiting to be astonished anew at what He has in store.

Have a great week. God Loves you and wants you to KNOW it!

John and Esther


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