Catching the wave

My trip to Australia is over - it's good to be home again. But the jetlag! Felt like a zombie since I got home. Still, that's a small price to pay for a wonderful experience and memories that will last a lifetime.

After the 'work' bit was over we stayed for a couple more days and did a little sight seeing. There are some great perks to this appointment, eh? As we know from 'Home and Away', Australians love the beach; actually most live on it. Take a look at the map of Australia and the thing you notice immediately is that all the population is based around the coast.

Sydney has 2 famous beaches - Bondi Beach and Manley Beach. Bondi was closer to our hotel but we decided to visit Manley as this meant taking a half hour ferry ride out of Sydney Harbour. The plus point is that this means a wonderful view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House as you leave the dock side. By the way, a one day 'travel card' in Sydney costs about £7, and includes all the trains, buses and ferry journeys.

The ferry journey was lovely, the nearest I'll get to a cruise! Arriving at Manley there's just a 5 minute walk from the docks to the beach. The main drag is a bit like Blackpool - tourist shops selling tacky souvenirs and boomerangs. The view when you reach the beach is almost breathtaking. Lovely sandy beaches and bright blue sea.

By UK standards, the sea was rough - large waves, probably 6-10 feet high. We sat for a while watching the surfers - not something you get to see too often back home. It was fascinating. The large waves were a long way from the shore. The surfers would paddle out, splashing through the smaller waves as they went. Once in the distance they would sit astride their boards waiting for the right wave to appear. The sea was strange - calm for a while, then on the distance would dawn the start of a large wave. As it drew closer it grew larger. The surfers would wait, eyeing the wave and deciding whether it was big enough to launch out upon. Some waves were allowed to pass, deemed too small to risk. Then, after a while, the right one would arrive - large enough to ride and exciting enough to surf. Paddling quickly, the surfers lined themselves up to catch the wave as it rose and broke - the lucky ones riding it in all the way to the beach.

There are plenty of writers who have drawn spiritual inspiration from such a scene. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but ponder the spiritual parallel. It's no good waiting on the safety of the beach if you want to surf. To catch the best waves you to be out there - no small feat in itself. Once you battle your way through the smaller waves you have to wait patiently for the moment, ready to catch the movement of the tide as it surges towards you.

I did a little search - looking for Scripture which might link to this thought. The only passage I could find was the story in Luke 2 about Jesus' presentation at the Temple. As his parents brought him they were confronted by Simeon, and old man. The Bible tells it like this:

25Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord's Christ. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying: "Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel."

To feel the surge of the Spirit, to sense God's blessing, you have to be in the right place - you need to be 'out there'. It's no good dithering about on the edge, God expects us to battle through the shallow water, past the lesser waves and into the deep. Put simply, I think He wants us to get stuck in.

I hope I might demonstrate the commitment and determination needed to be in the right place to know the wave of the Spirit working in my life.

Belonging - the William Booth way!

This week has been full of experiences. Last night I travelled with the delegates of the Emergency Services training course to have a meal and look around the Army's 'Street Level' programme here in Sydney, Australia. It was an experience I will not forget for a long time. For some years the Army has been providing accommodation in down town Sydney for street sleepers and vulnerable young adults. About 10 years ago an opportunity arose to expand the programme when a building became vacant a couple of streets away and so the 'Street Level' ministry was born.
Led by a dynamic officer couple (he runs the accommodation and she runs the drop in centre) the programme now includes a drop in centre complete with cafe, Internet room and welfare centre. In order to maximise the welfare support and give the clients dignity through choosing their own assistance, a fully stocked supermarket has been opened. Goods are exchanged at cost price and the range is augmented from stock donated through the city's Food Bank programme. A daily meal programme provides food for vulnerable people, heroin addicts, alcoholics and many others with chaotic life styles.
We were there for the highlight of the week - Friday night worship. Robyn (the Officer in charge) gave us a tour around the building. As we went, she explained in a rapid, non-stop line of patter, the dynamics of the ministry. You don't need many minutes with her to realsie that she and her husband are true visionaries. They believe in 'community', offering those who come for help a 'hand up' and not just a 'hand out'. They are passionate about the gospel's power to change, transform and recreate. During the last few years around 20 clients who have been saved have progressed through to soldiership and now proudly wear their uniform and help staff the programme.
Preparing us for what was to come during worship, Robyn warned us that the last few weeks had been a bit hairy, with a number of addicts now using the new ICE drug which is sweeping the city's drug addict community. Fights had broken out in the services. 'If a fight starts, please leave it to me to sort out - don't be tempted to try and step in - I'll get it under control', Robyn warned the 15 male officers in our group!
Robyn informed us that worship always followed the same pattern, deliberately to give the clients a sense of routine, something often lacking in their lives.
With this intro we made our way from the reception area to the upstairs hall where a meals was being served. We all took our bowl (with a menu made up of whatever is donated from the Food Bank that day) and a cup of weak orange quash. The hall began to fill. Some were drunk, others high on drugs, but every new attender was greeted by name with hugs and waves. Here was a very special family - the likes of which I hadn't seen before.
Worship, led by a small worship band, was followed by the 'Care and Share' time - or testimony period as we would call it. Around the room hands shot up in the air asking to be allowed to step forward and tell their story. One by one members of this rag tag group of worshippers were chosen and stepped up to the mic, called up by name by Robyn and greeted with a hug as they stood at the rostrum. Scripture quotes flowed (their knowledge and familiarity with the Bible astounded me) - prayers were requested. One heroin user proudly shared that he had been clean for 7 days. Others jubilantly told how they hadn't touched a cigarette for ages - each proud story greeted with cheers from the congregation and all pleading for God's help and asking their friends for their prayer support.
The preacher for the night was giving his first sermon. A drug addict, saved just a few years ago and now transformed from his habit and lifestyle, stood proudly at the rostrum in his uniform. His startling appearance with long beard and shaven head accentuated by the piercings in his nose, ears and lips. He spoke simply but powerfully about the power of the gospel. He and his wife enter training college in a few months to prepare to become SA Officers. As I looked at this new creation in the pulpit I found myself thinking just how much the Army of today needs transformed lives and powerful testimony like theirs.
I came home humbled to have seen God at work; and to witness this ministry of 'belonging' modelled through the commitment of Robyn, her team of helpers and the open arms extended to every one who passed through that centre tonight.
How William Booth would smile if he could see the fruits of his vision still being harvested in Sydney today. How Jesus must laugh with joy at the work being done in the lives of those the devil has tried his best to destroy. Some days I'm so proud to be a Salvationist!

Do you ever have those moments when you feel you should pinch yourself to check you aren't dreaming? I had one of those yesterday morning. Leaving the hotel at 6am I went out for a jog in the park. The hotel is situated on the Rushcutters Bay area of Sydney. It's summer here in Australia but the weather is changeable and it was a bright, but cool day with a gentle breeze blowing - just perfect for running. As I ran around the bay (by the way - the picture to the left is a photo of the joging route- nice, eh?) I looked over to my left and took in the view of the Sydney Harbour bridge - the iconic view of Sydney. I thought 'this is surreal - in the middle of British winter I'm jogging on the other side of the world under the shadow of one of the world's most famous sights!' Life's a sacrifice, eh?

Normally I run after work - this time of year it's dark, cold and damp. I occasionally pass another mad jogger, done up to the hilt in scarf and gloves, but the streets of Hornchurch rarely echo with the sound of groups enjoying exercise.

What a difference here yesterday! The park was full of people out enjoying early morning exercise. There were probably well over 100 other folks out there.

But what was interesting was looking around and taking in the variety of exercie choices. There were other joggers ruining alone, like me. Powerwalkers, vigorously swinging little dumbbells in each hand as they pounded the pathway. Then there were groups - people out in teams sharing exercise and encouraging each other on. One group was doing kickboxing exercises, another was being drilled by a fitness coach - doing jumps, squats and other routines. Many were walking their dogs - both enjoying a bit of early morning fresh air. Then others were playing sport (hardly surpising the Aussies beat us in test cricket when they are out practicing their bowling at 6am!).

It was a great atmosphere and having a run at 6am seemed such a natural thing to do alongside so many others all sharing the desire to get fit.

But what hit me was the fact that whilst the overall aim was the same, the way in which it was achieved was very different for each person.

I've been working my way slowly through an interesting book lent to me by our CO - it's called 'releasing your church to grow'. It's written simply and contains lots of useful and stimulating thoughts and I'm really enjoying reading it. But I confess the last chapter has been a bit of a struggle. The author has been emphasising the importance of small group Bible studies - basically arguing that house group are the bedrock of any growing church and if you can't persuade someone to jon a house group then there's obviously something wrong with their Christian experience.

Confession time now- I found the chapter difficult because joining a house group has never appealed to me at all. I have no enthusiasm for joining a group and meeting every week to study the Bible. It's not that I don't want to read God's Word and learn more about Him and my relationship. And it's not that I don't like people (I think I'm not that difficulat to get on with) - but the basic idea of a House group where you meet to go through a passage and all pontificate on what you think it means (despite no one having any more clue than you!) has absolutely no attraction to me whatsoever!

Yesterday's jogging experience reminded me that God hasn't made us all the same. Made in His image, yes, but made the same, no. Even if we might have the same goals as someone else, the way we achieve them can be very different - each according to our personality or nature.

I write this at 5.45am on Tuesday morning - I can't sleep as I'm struggle to get over the jetlag from the journey. In a few minutes I'm heading out for this morning's exercise. The view will be great, I'm sure, and the park will be full. As I run I'll offer up my morning prayers and thank God that He's made me - His own creation - unique and with me own characteristics. And I'll do my best to get a little fitter, too!

Further to yesterday's posting, after what seemed like a mammoth journey, I landed at Sydney airport, Australia, tonight at about 8pm. The airport was very swish and welcoming, but I was immediately hit by the elaborate steps taken by the Australian government to protect their country and its' environment. It seems that virtually everything is banned from being allowed in! In fact, I'm amazed they let me in!
Not long before landing we had been given fruit on the plane - but it had to be disposed of in the 'quarantine' bin when we stepped off the plane. No fruit, plants or food in general allowed into Australia.
But even more strangely, there were signs everywhere saying that dirty sports shoes or golf clubs with soil on must also be quarantined. Talk about being careful, eh?
Whilst it might seem a pain (and we are still waiting to learn if our 'soup, soap and salvation' will be released to us for our training course!) it is interesting to see how carefully this country guards and protects itself from contamination. Every step is taken to ensure that nothing which might corrupt or harm is allowed in.
Wonder if there's not a lesson for us in that, too? The little habit, the relaxing of rules held dear, the unguarded action - how easily something conserded inappropirate becomes the norm and takes hold in our lives. It's easy to weaken but the Holy Spirit is surely a more effective protector than and customs or immigration section and stands ready to help us. As the SA song (Soldiers of Christ, arise)says,
Leave no unguarded place,
No weakness of the soul;
Take every virtue, every grace,
And fortify the whole.
To keep your armor bright
Attend with constant care,
Still walking in your captain's sight
And watching unto prayer.

Aussies shun Booth's mission!

Tomorrow I have to sacrifice myself and head to the sunshine of Sydney, New South Wales, to help lead an emergency training course for officers of Australia and New Zealand.

As is our norm, the training materials were carefully packed up and dispatched in advance by FedEx.

This morning we had a panic call from our local organisers reporting that Australian customs had impounded our packing boxes. The message said something about food stuff.

We thought about the contents and realised we had packed some small packets of Maltesers (we give them out as prizes) and assumed these must be the problem. The FedEx agent said he would confirm the problem and call us back.

Imagine our surprise this morning when he said, 'the problem is with the soup, soap and salvation!'

I should explain, we start our training by exploring Booth's motto and what this means to us in terms of practical service and ministry. To illustrate it, we take a small packet of soup mix, a bar of soap and a small wooden cross.

It turns out that the soup beaches import regulations for food stuff, the soap might possibly contain illegal substances and taking wood into Australia is forbidden.

So our 'soup, soap and salvation' has been put into quarantine - we can collect it again on our way out!

What would William Booth say about that?

Keep in step all the time

One of the blessings of the recent holiday was an opportunity to get some extra exercise in. Guilt over all the extra food eaten during the Christmas festivities was probably as much as incentive as anything else! Still, it was really nice to jog in the light - I normally run after work so it's dark most days.

After a few longer runs during the holiday, and with the return to work looming, I decided Monday was right for a good long run so set on on a 12-miler. I set off down the A127, a bit boring and not the most scenic but with the advantage of having a target point six miles out - the Halfway House roundabout. I've done that route a few times. the only problem with it is that to get around the roundabout you have to run up the slip road, which is really steep. On the last run I really struggled up the hill and decided to take a breather and walk it. As soon as I stopped, fatigue set in and I had to walk the 6 miles home again!

So this week I gritted my teeth and kept going. I can't honestly say the homeward 6 miles was easy but there was a real sense of achievement in getting through the touch bit and knowing that the rest of the run was all in the direction of home.

As I jogged up the hill I realised there was an old Army song playing silently in my head:

Keep in step all the time,
Keep in step all the time;
Don't fall out and rest for a while,

Follow Jesus all the way, and smile

On the homeward leg I found myself thinking of some of the folks that I once worshipped with who no longer do. Most of them didn't decide to leave the church, they simply took a temporary break. They stepped out of the band or came out of uniform (just for a while, of course) - but sadly never really made it back again.

Getting safely home (without stopping) in about 1 hour 45 was a great feeling. Tired, yes, but with a real sense of achievement.

I don't know what this year ahead will hold. Joys, definitely; but challenges too, I suppose. Whatever comes, keeping going is a big part of the challenge. Getting over the obstacles might be hard work, but I'm sure the end result will be worth it.