Ringing in the Olympics: Derek Redmond

Many of the best memories are for me, inevitably, dominated by GB glory. However, I’d like to think this would have made the list no matter my nationality. And anyway, this isn’t exactly a glorious moment. And yet, it kind of is.

Now this is one I have to admit to having not watched live, though you’d have had to be living on Mars to have not picked up on it during the Games. Redmond was fairly well known to the British public as a member of the 4x400m gold medal-winning team at the 1991 world championships. However, his career had been mostly blighted by injury and withdrawals, including one on the morning of his first heat in Seoul.

Nonetheless, things seemed to be turning the corner as he took to the blocks in his 400m semi-final, with a dreamed-of place in the final very much on the cards. The starting gun fired, Redmond careered round the first curve…and the rest is now enshrined in Olympic legend (and recounted by Redmond and others in the video, below).

This embodiment of the Olympic spirit was to serve as an inspiration to millions in years to come, including legions of men looking themselves in the mirror on a Saturday night and wondering if they’re really up to the task ahead. For what Redmond and dad could not have known that fateful August afternoon was that this act of a fatherly intervention in order to rescue a fallen son was to become the go-to illustrations for many a sermon around the world, including one of my own.

Cheers, Del boy, I owe you one!

Saturday Post -- 21/07/12

Back in December of last year, as our co-workers Diego & Jo Santana were preparing to leave Trinidad, we were asked by Jo if we would be happy to look after their young, not-quite-100%-German Shepherd. With Amanda in the equation, ‘no’ simply wasn’t an option, and so look after her we did (Poppy that is, not Amanda).

Not long after this, our own dog, Arturo – who, after one scrap too many has to be attached to a dog cable – wore down that very cable to the point that it was simply useless. Thus, he joined Poppy round the back of the house we stay in in a large, enclosed area just for the dogs.

Our priority was simply keeping Arturo in a safe place where he couldn’t rub yet another person up the wrong way. Nevertheless, nature took its course and sure enough, as the early morning light of Thursday rose on Trinidad, the first of five new lives emerged from their mother’s womb. It was the start of a truly epic ‘labour day’ with the final pup arriving at some time between 7pm and 9pm (can’t say exactly when as I was at the Bible study, good missionary that I am).

Here are a couple of pictures. More can be found at my Facebook page.

The first picture of Poppy and 'No.1'

Camera loves you, baby

 All five are doing remarkably well and furiously feeding. Best of all is the change in Poppy herself, a lovely dog, but rather too excitable and jumpy at times, and at times a little bit too trusting with strangers. It was strangely moving to watch this canine version of a little girl take so easily to motherhood, feeding them, cleaning them, simply refusing to let any of them out of her sight. The only times she moved all day were when we had to change the ‘nest’ and, intriguingly, when one of her old canine pals squeezed through the gate to see what was going on. Let’s just say that he didn’t stay for very long. There go the trust issues.

The second week of the school holidays has been somewhat quieter, with no 5-Day Club to attend to. However, this being the ‘summer’, we’ve had a few visitors in the last week, and I’ve enjoyed sharing various aspects of the work with them. Mark Morris, mentioned last week, has not let his injury get in the way of re-acquainting himself with FT’s work, and he was in attendance at my English class on Tuesday (indeed, many of the participants were upset to find themselves stuck just with boring old me again on Thursday – that said, they couldn’t make out a word of our English when we conversed). Mark also came along to band practice and, this coming weekend being his last, he’s decided to cap it off by taking lead vocals at the youth group. He’s a braver man than I am.

Last week also saw the visit to Trinidad of a health volunteer we missed by just a few months when we first arrived here, Mark Connor. Mark’s younger brother, Paul, a student at Georgetown University has just come to the end of a semester in Buenos Aires and the two of them did some travelling, with a return visit to Trinidad pencilled in for a couple of days. They’re Californian and, well, let’s just say, you can take the boy out of California etc. etc. Paul, with longish hair and a backward-turned baseball cap had a look that screamed “Bill & Ted”. Mark, with volume turned down to 10, was the wiser, restraining influence. Nevertheless, it was as great a pleasure for us to get to know them as it was for our fellow missionaries to re-acquaint themselves – mind you, for a couple of West Coast Americans, boy, they weren’t half ginger!

One final item of big news is that the building work on the house is now well and truly underway and I’m hoping to document proceedings photographically as the weeks and months go by. At the back there, you can see the temporary housing which has been built for a builder to stay in and essentially make sure nothing is stolen during the night.

Prayer

• For the education workers as the school year resumes this week and we get back into Trinidad’s classrooms.
• For the remainder of Mark’s trip here (he leaves on Thursday, returning to East Kilbride via Canada, where he will be performing best man duties at the wedding of David McColl, another ex-volunteer).

 Praise

• For the blessing of visitors in the past week.
• For visible signs of progress on our house – we’ve waited some time for those. 

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Ringing in the Olympics: Hoop Dreams

My affection for the Barcelona Games has already been stated, and the passing of time has done little to diminish its status in my affections. For me, of the five stagings I have to choose from, it ranks a very close second to Sydney.

I think it was a summer Sunday evening (when church always seemed to take something of a backseat for a couple of months) that we were sat as a family in front of the day’s highlights show and I first came across these boys: The Dream Team. A remarkable basketball team in themselves, except that I had never seen professional basketball played in my life, let alone with such gusto. Over the course of the two weeks, Jordan, Johnson, Pippen et al were to slam-dunk and alley-oop their way into my affections like few other sporting outfits since.

I’m well aware that a fair few Americans still consider 1992, and its opening of the floodgates for subsequent NBA-festooned US teams, to have been something of an insult to amateur hoops and the Olympic ethos in general. An important debate, for sure, but one I couldn’t possibly have grasped as a goggle-eyed 9-year-old. The biggest disappointment as far as I was concerned was to come in later years, as I learned that the standard they set was, indeed, unreachable. Basketball was rarely, if ever, to re-surface on my radar as a serious interest, but for my contemporaries and I, the NBA boom that Barcelona undoubtedly spearheaded did leave one important legacy: NBA Jam on the Super Nintendo, an imperious sports simulation! BOOM shack-a-lack!

Ringing in the Olympics: Ben Johnson

Of course, the big headlines in 1988 were generated by this guy, who I first encountered on the news, not on the track but wandering around bemusedly in a tracksuit while surrounded by a veritable platoon of photographers. I promptly asked my Mum what drugs were. And a little bit of my innocence, as Don McLean might have put it, took the last train for the coast.

Ringing in the Olympics: Greg Louganis

While I wasn’t quite attuned to what was going on around me in 1988, a couple of Seoul moments did provoke twitches in the old antennae, largely due to their making the headlines on the Six O’Clock News (Mum’s perennial revenge for having to sit through the tea-time purgatory of Neighbours the half-hour before).

The first is captured in this stunning photograph, which somehow lends a touch of grace to what can only be described as a bloke tonking his head off a diving board. Forget world records etc.: for a six-year-old raised on a diet of slapstick cartoons, this oft-repeated clip was a source of endless fascination, Looney Tunes incarnate.

Ringing in the Olympics

"BARCELOOOOOOOONAAAAAAAAAAAAA...!!!"

The moment that you stepped into the room you took my breath away.

You never forget your first time. Linford Christie surging for the line, arms outstretched, eyeballs blazing. The Dream Team making basketball disciples of all nations. Steve Redgrave heaving himself to within two gold medals of a knighthood. And who can forget that quintessentially Catalan opening ceremony, crowned in a blaze of glory as an archer lit the Olympic cauldron with a flaming arrow (or did he?).

I was 9 years old and had never seen anything quite like it. I now need only hear the opening bars of the above-quoted Freddie Mercury/Montserrat Caballé standard (which inevitably yet masterfully accompanied the BBC’s opening titles) and the goosebumps make their customary appearance.

The 1998 Seoul Games registered somewhere at the back my subconscious (I vaguely remember coverage on in the background as I toddled home from school for lunch). Two years later, the sight of a grown man in a white shirt crying his eyes out on a football pitch, and bringing no end of amusement to the other grown-ups watching the telly, gave me momentary pause as I ran around a Scripture Union family camp up in Plockton. But 1992 was the first time I properly engaged with a major sporting event and so the Olympics (strictly the summer version) have commanded my attention to varying degrees of enthusiasm ever since.

The relationship has not always run smoothly, with the frustrations, if anything, increasing as the years have passed. Am I alone in considering a medal table to be the very antithesis of the Olympic ideal? In addition, an Olympic medal is a mere curio in the cabinet of any successful tennis player, footballer or (from 2016) golfer – both these great sports and the Games themselves are the worse for their inclusion in the programme.

My biggest gripe, however, rests not with the IOC but with certain elements of the British media (The Daily Telegraph is a chief culprit), who seize their four-yearly opportunity to not-so-subtly knock football and its fans with untold relish. A Brit picks up some serious metal in the likes of equestrianism, archery or sailing (among many other sports whose sole reason for inclusion is that the original founders probably indulged in them at weekends on their estates) and all of a sudden we get the customary “what a damning indictment of our nation that this sport doesn’t get the exposure it deserves!” sermon from some corner of middle-England. Well there’s a reason it doesn’t, matey: it’s rubbish.

However, so many have been the moments of sheer, jaw-wiping-off-the-floor, sporting magnificence that these irritations have not quite yet extinguished my continued enthusiasm as London 2012 approaches. Though I understand – nay, anticipate – the customary pessimism from my Caledonian brethren (the Games organisers’ solitary sob to Scots being a quite pathetic football schedule at Hampden Park – Egypt v Belarus, anyone?), it is a source of some regret to me that I won’t be in the UK for surely the only ‘home’ Olympics of my lifetime.

So, inspired by the recent columns on the BBC Sport website by legendary commentator Barry “Just look at his face” Davies, I’ve elected to keep my spirits up by posting a few of my own personal Olympic highlights (illustrated on Facebook of late) right here on this very blog in the build-up to the Games. It’s just that when I say “I was there”, I more often than not refer to a well-worn sofa. 

Saturday Post -- 14/07/12

When I think of summers in Canada (yes, this is Amanda typing) I think of summer camp. I think of two to three weeks at overnight Bible camp in July going straight into day camps at our church in August. I remember being a camper for years and then as I got older receiving more and more responsibility and becoming a counsellor. I love camp. I always thought it was weird how much I loved  camp, considering I was quite an insecure person and meeting new people all the time was difficult and nerve-wracking. But somehow, every summer, I made new friends and loved summer camp. I was never a big fan of the sports time and I hated the all-camp game of capture the flag. I used to loiter behind some building pretending to be guarding it. It got worse when I was a counsellor and had to actually make an effort to do something during the game. I used to secretly hope some kid would receive a minor injury and I would have to sit out with them. Never really happened though. But, despite this, I loved camp. 

My first experience with camp in Bolivia was quite a wake-up call, mainly because it was in Spanish and I had only been here five months. It was awkward to not be so involved and just watch from the sidelines and I clearly remember being challenged to teach one of the verses and the kids looking a bit confused due to my rough Spanish. That was in 2010. I have not participated in a day camp since then due to my work in health until this past week and you'll be glad to hear that my experience was completely different. If anything, my enjoyment of it and involvement in it reminded me a lot more of years at camp in Canada. 

So, this past week was the 5-Day Club that the Sports department at the Foundation runs during the 2-week winter school break. Various other members of staff were asked to be support staff and lead small groups, including Craig and I. However, the 5-Day Club sadly became the 4-Day Club when a civil protest was announced for Tuesday the 10th and no-one was allowed to work that day. Every day of the week we looked at a Bible story that taught us how we can react to Jesus -- we can celebrate, love, follow, believe and talk about Jesus. There were also accompanying memory verses and crafts as well as sports and games. One of the crafts which I thought was great was a card with John 3:16 written inside. The theme for the day was following Jesus and they heard the story of the last supper and betrayal of Jesus. The kids were challenged to take these cards that they'd made and show them to as many people as possible. Every person who read the verse in the card was to put their signature on the card and the next day they were to show their small group leader how many people they had shared the verse with. The kids got right into it and we hope that some of the families from which these kids come got the chance to hear a bit about what their children were learning at the 5-Day Club. 

Craig led the music every day and developed an alter ego named Choco Loco (Crazy White Guy), a rock star who talked in such a gruff voice I was worried he might be a chain-smoker. But the younger kids especially loved it and shouted "Choco Loco" all over the place. He also supported the games session for the younger kids and led the small group for the boys of 12 years and older. I, along with Elizabeth, led the small group for the girls of 12 years and older and was really encouraged with such a large group. By the end of the week there were at least 4 girls who came regularly who previously did not have any contact with our church and we're praying that they decide to come out to the girls' Bible study and youth group. I also helped support the older kids' games time... I realised how much more I enjoyed games time when I could lead and support and no one was forcing me to play. 

I also really enjoyed the fellowship among all the leaders. It felt good to be surrounded by a group of people who love God and are devoted to sharing Jesus and His sacrifice to others. As you'll know from previous blogs, working in health at the Foundation does not necessarily mean working with other Christians and I found it so refreshing to work closely alongside believers with a united goal. We're praying as leaders that these kids (there were 82 on the last day), choose to come to the Saturday Bible Club and church as well. We pray that we will continue to develop friendships with them and get a chance to see where a lot of them are in their personal walk with God. 

From helping at the Club, I have realised the importance of long-term involvement with people here. If a child were to attend a day camp in Canada coming from a non-Christian family there is a good chance that this child will not know who Jesus is or the major events of his life, death and resurrection. They will probably not have read the Bible and will not understand the concept of salvation. However, working in a Catholic culture is a very different thing. I would say that the majority of the kids know who Jesus is, recognise him as the Son of God, recognise the Bible as the Word of God and know that Jesus died and rose again. Sounds great, but the majority of these kids will have been taught salvation by works over and over and over again, and in 5 (really 4) days you cannot sort through who knows and believes what, and undo the teaching of salvation by works. 

In my small group I asked the girls to put up their hands if they attended a church; all of them did. About half of them attend the church that we attend and work in, and so I asked the other girls where they attend and the answer was the Catholic church down the road. These girls knew all the answers to the questions from the Bible stories that they heard, they probably didn't learn anything overtly new during the 5 Day Club and they probably think that we're on the same page as us leaders. In 4 days, with little one-on-one contact I had little opportunity to learn if we are actually on the same page. I would love to think that we are, but experience would teach me that we're probably not... that salvation by faith, not by works and works as an evidence of one's faith are probably still an obstacle in their minds, and that they think they are saved through their first communion and infant baptism. All I can do is pray that they are interested enough to keep coming out, so I get the chance to know them better and talk about these things with them. 

Prayer

• For the 100 or so children who came at least once during the week and who heard the Good News at the 5-Day Club.
• For Craig as he preaches on Psalm 32 tomorrow at church.

Praise

• For the opportunity to reach so many children in the last week.
• For  the safe arrival of Mark Morris, whom west-of-Scotlanders may know as the assistant pastor at Calderwood Baptist Church in East Kilbride. Mark, who was here as a volunteer way back in 2004-5, arrived here on Monday for a three-week stay, only to break his toe on the football pitch on the same day! He is recovering well but obviously can't get around much, so pray that he will nonetheless feel the benefit of the trip -- at the very least, he's been a great encouragement.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 07/07/12

A missionary get-together with Malcolm & Liz McGregor

Five rapid-fire years ago today, Amanda and I invited a group of family and friends to Markham Bible Chapel to sit quietly and listen to us say "I do". Quite where those years have gone is beyond me, but I do know that I, for one, have been richly blessed to have been a part of this partnership. Amanda has patiently put up with my many weaknesses, encouraged me when I've doubted myself and taught me a lot about sacrifice. I am a very lucky man.

So excited were we to mark our anniversary, however, that we took a long-weekend trip to Santa Cruz a whole week early! Well, not quite. Our hand was forced by another factor, namely the visit of old family friends Malcolm & Liz McGregor to the city last weekend. Malcolm is International Director of SIM (Serving in Mission), a vast, international Christian missions organisation. However, the McGregors served at the missions coalface for many years before stepping into the boardroom and it was a pleasure to tap into their wealth of experience over dinner on Sunday evening. Many years ago, at a critical juncture in their ministry, Malcolm benefitted immensely from meeting regularly to pray with, and receive spiritual counsel from, my Grandpa Murdoch back in Milngavie. This time a Murdoch offspring and his wife were on the receiving end of the McGregors' own wisdom -- I'm sure Grandpa Murdoch would have been delighted.

Our base for the weekend was Hotel Buganvillas, where we had previously holidayed back in January 2011 with Amanda's sister Jessica. Unashamedly swanky, the hotel offers Fundación Totaí workers a corporate rate, so we always get a great deal. Though it was only our second visit, our routine there is now well established. I'll get up for a jog around 7am (an hour beyond which I'm usually physically incapable of sleeping these days), grab a quick shower, and then, at around 9am, it's downstairs to The Breakfast Buffet. For a Scot on holiday, 'tis very heaven: a cornucopia of just about every kind of breakfast dish under the sun (black pudding aside) and multiple visits are permitted, nay, encouraged. So not only do you get a top breakfast, you can eat enough to do you for the day, thus rendering lunchtime expenditure unnecessary. Told you it was a Scotsman's holiday paradise. 

With Wimbledon on this time (oh, and isn't it just this year!) we would retire to our room and enjoyed a spot of televised tennis while in recovery mode. Around noon, we'd head for the health spa or the pool, with somewhat chillier winter weather requiring a hearty swim just to stay warm in the water. Much reading is caught up on in between and, around 4pm, we're working out what film we want to see at the multiplex that evening.

We were able to attend to a couple of more pressing matters, however. We had an appointment at the clinic on Friday morning, where Amanda had a check-up -- all is well. And on Friday evening, we were able to track down Emilixy and her two younger sisters, Tirza and Wendoly, who are now living with their relatives. For those who've been praying for these children, you'll be pleased to know that they're settled in homes (they're spread across two of them which are in the same neighbourhood) with responsible aunts and uncles -- in fact, probably a lot more responsible than their currently incarcerated parents -- and they're settled in good schools. To give them a bit of a break, we took Tirza and Wendoly out for burgers and a flick (Brave) at the multiplex, the undoubted highlight being 6-year-old Wendoly's panic, followed by intense joy, as she boarded, and rode on, her first escalator. 

We arrived back in Trinidad on Wednesday morning and were straight back to work, with the usual bout of classes to teach and Education administration for me, and Amanda facing a busy time of it in Audiology, while also finding time to prepare for Sunday's young women's Bible study and make a home visit. With the mid-year school holidays beginning on Monday, attention is now turning to next week's 5-Day Club, organised by the Sports workers and based at the local school in the mornings. 

Last night we had the pleasure of a meal with Rogers & Donna Churipuy and their two children, who are in Trinidad for a couple of weeks visiting Rogers' family. Rogers and Donna met here many years ago when Donna, a Canadian, worked in Trinidad as a volunteer nurse, though our paths had never previously crossed. Last summer, while we were in Canada, they got in touch with us asking if we'd like to get together -- it turned out they were dedicated blog followers, coming across our website during Rogers' frequent googling for all things Trinidad. A year on, it was a pleasure to catch up with them.

Before signing off, while we've been away our final 'permission to build' paperwork has been advancing and should be in our hands by Monday, meaning that we are, finally, free to begin work on the house. Our architect popped by yesterday for a chat and he and his workers are happy to get started as early as this coming week. All going to plan, we should be in our very own home come Christmas. Pool and breakfast buffet optional.

Prayer

• For the 5-Day Club this week. Amanda and I will both be leading small-groups, while I have responsibility for music, as usual. Pray that God prepares the hearts of those children who are coming to receive the Good News.
• For the English classes as we begin the final module with the Intermediate class next week. Pray particularly for the impact of the Thursday class, where we have a simple Bible study.

Praise

• For a very relaxing -- and somewhat productive -- few days in Santa Cruz.
• For the insights gained from our evening with the McGregors.
• For our housing project now being at a state of near-readiness.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 23/06/12

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!    

Romans 11:33

Thursday being Aymara New Year and all (the winter solstice is a holiday which nobody in this part of Bolivia could care less for -- but, hey, 'tis a holiday), I headed out with some friends for a spot of fishing. A meagre three bite-sized piranhas constituted my catch, but I had slightly better luck with the camera.

This discerning capyvara only frequents the drinking
establishments where there are birds to be found.

For this part of Bolivia, that's a very green tree.

Ranchers at work. 

A tiddler and a small fish.

As the Incas celebrate their New Year, I've had occasion of late to chew over 2012's half-term report. As regular readers will know, the year thus far has had its fair share of challenges. The seemingly interminable issues regarding our house and sundry land complications, and the emotional stress of family planning, have re-surfaced time and again. Rare has been the week in which we did not have some kind of psychological break from either of these matters.

Thankfully, in the face of such challenges, our marriage has held up remarkably and is stronger for the experiences. And our resolve to not get bitter about all of it has largely stood fast. We count our blessings and rejoice.

Some days, however, are easier than others, and we are oftentimes led to wonder where this is all going, what's the bigger picture. Does it even exist? Mercifully, God has used a ministry opportunity to address some of these issues in a mighty way.

Over the past few weeks, with the usual participants otherwise occupied, I've stepped in to chair the Bible studies on Thursday evenings at church. After two years (!) we have finally reached the end of our study in Genesis and I was instructed to simply move on into Exodus, where, in the early chapters at least, the Genesis narrative simply continues.

And as I've re-considered these passages, I have been reminded that God is indeed at work -- and emphatically so. These verses can be simply yet conclusively summed up in three words: God is faithful. Consider the following:

• On the face of it, Joseph's brothers sold him to Egypt. In fact, God sent him there to save Egypt and, as it turned out, Israel too.
• The language used in Exodus 1 to describe the affliction of the Israelites is precisely that used by God when revealing his plan for Israel to Abraham centuries earlier, in Genesis 15:13. Thus, the eagle-eyed Hebrew reader immediately recognises that in the midst of man's sordid schemes, God remains very much in the driving seat.
• While the Pharaoh 'who knew not Joseph' of the early chapters of Exodus obsessed over wiping out Israel's male population, God in fact used 'the weaker sex' to completely undermine a king. (am I alone in detecting a prominent strain of gallows humour in Exodus 1?)
• And while we're on the subject, Pharaoh couldn't even keep his own daughter under control, adopting Hebrew boys and what-not. 
• Finally, Moses' complaints at the burning bush that he is not cut out for leadership are seriously undermined not only by his lack of faith but in his life experiences. As Stephen reminds the Council in Acts 7:22, Moses, in his youth, was primed for officialdom. And where did this take place? At the very heart of Egyptian power. Egypt was unwittingly footing the bill for surely the most humiliating moment in its history.

A common thread uniting all of these processes is that the initial, faltering steps were taken many, many years before the true extent of the situation was made visible. And from this I draw great strength. We don't know what will take place tomorrow, let alone next week, and infinitely moreso in this culture than in our Western upbringings. But more than we can ask or imagine is currently being, and has already been, accomplished.

Prayer

• Our fifth anniversary is the 7th of July and, to celebrate, we've decided to treat ourselves to a long weekend at a favourite hotel in Santa Cruz. However, we're going a week in advance so that we can cross paths with Malcolm & Liz McGregor. Old friends of the Murdoch half of my family, Malcolm is SIM's International Director and we're excited about meeting them next weekend. We are planning to leave on Thursday evening and return to Trinidad on Wednesday morning, however, there have been a slew of road blockades over the past week. Please pray that we will be able to travel.
• While in Santa Cruz, we'll also be paying a visit to the clinic and meeting Emilixy (the girl from our church who was recently, and very suddenly, forced to move to Santa Cruz due to her father's incarceration). Pray for these weightier matters.

Praise

• Last Sunday's afternoon of service with the youth group was a great success, with the church gutted out and, God-willing, the youth leaving the big clean-up with a better idea of what it means to serve the church. Please pray that a seed might have been planted in their hearts.
• For the Lord's reminders this week, through his Word, that he has an unfathomably great plan for us.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

P.S. No post next weekend but our newsletter should be on its way soon. Let us know your email address if you'd like a copy.

Saturday Post -- 16/06/12

Surrounded by people of stature. Story of my life...

Life here rarely runs according to the script but things certainly went significantly pear-shaped during my cousin's visit here last week, to extents even I've never seen.


Monday was Douglas’ last full day here and, being our weekly rest day, we planned a final, relaxing visit to the local lake for the afternoon. Based on form, we really should have known better. What happened was the perfect encapsulation of the frequently, unfailingly manic culture we live in.

Accepting that the problem with the water supply wasn’t going to be fixed any time soon (by Monday it had been five days since the repairman said he’d come) we did what we had to do and called one of several companies here who can fill your well from their massive transportable tanks for a small fee. I got them around 9.30pm and they said they’d be here soon.

It wasn’t till 12.15pm (and some way into England vs France) that the water boys (“I pictured a rainbow…”) finally showed up. However, despite ordering four tanks’ worth to fill our well adequately, they had just the one. And given that things shut down for two hours over lunchtime, that meant the lake visit would now be at the mercy of their prompt arrival.

They were back at 3pm, now well into the afternoon, and by this point we are accepting that the lake visit will be brief. However, the tank is filled and we’re all set to go. But as we’re getting our things together in the house, a ferocious revving sound can be heard outside. We pop our heads out and…the water boys’ truck is stuck in the field outside our house, the situation exacerbated by the moisture still lying from the previous week’s inclement weather.

"We're gonna need a bigger crane..."

Two hours and three vehicles later, the truck is finally out and we can all go to the lake. Except it’s now 5pm and the sun will have set within an hour. ¡Adios laguna!

I joked with Douglas that in some ways I was glad he was going home the following day as he seemed to have bestowed a curse upon us. Nonsense though I spoke, we’ve had a rather bittersweet experience in the ensuing days of seeing everything fall back into place since he left – the water supply is now switched on and the sky-rocketing mercury is threatening to smash the thermometer.

Furthermore, things have been much more normal ministry-wise, including lots of great opportunities in the classrooms and in the Foundation to share Christ. In the schools, we were able this week to distribute booklets telling the story of Jesus in manga form (that’s a Japanese style of comic-book for those of you who aren’t down with the kids). And in the English class, we had a great discussion about justice, what we deserve from God, and how we can’t rely on our own resources to avoid his punishment.

Additionally, our building project made headway again this week, with the inspectors from the cooncil out to verify our plot’s dimensions and grant permission to build (which we will formally receive this coming week).

All joking aside, however, it was a pleasure to have Douglas here and to share Trinidad with him. We introduced him to all the people that matter in our lives and, while he couldn’t see the full extent of our work, he at least got a very clear sense of the near-constant logistical barriers we face in ministering effectively here. Most importantly, he got a well-earned break from the rigours of medicine and we were all too happy to facilitate that.

Prayer

• Please remember Douglas who, having arrived home safely in Virginia on Wednesday night, went straight into his anaesthesiology residency on Thursday morning. Rather him than me, I tell you. Pray that the rest will have been of benefit to him as he gets to grips with things.
• Please pray for the youth group who, spurred into action by reflecting on service over the past couple of months, have opted to serve the church tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon by organising a big clean-up. Pray that the activity will cause them to think more on this theme, and how they can, as young people, continue to serve the church.

 Praise

• For the practical stuff all getting sorted out over the last few days – when the background detail goes haywire, it can be an exhausting drain on our ministry, so give thanks that we’re (relatively speaking) back to normal now.
• For Douglas’ time here and the invaluable opportunity to enjoy some family time (and, if we’re honest, some of Trinidad’s finest cuisine – fried alligator tail, anyone?) over the past couple of weeks.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda