A Fond Backward Glance

As I have considered (and usually delayed) our re-entry into the blogosphere over these past few weeks, I imagined it would simply be a case of picking up where we left off. And so, poring over our last entry written back in late 2013, I’m not half amused to read a not-so-solemn promise that we’d be posting irregularly on the furlough phenomenon during 2014.

Well, it’s the thought that counts, is it not?

It’s not quite the case that we’ve been too busy to write; probably just that the blog is very much part of our Bolivia routine, and we never quite found a way to fit it in to things here in Scotland and in Canada. Home assignment, indeed, has been a true eye-opener, and I have no doubt that we could, in future, put pen to paper on the joys and sorrows of an extended period away from Bolivia. It is as important a time in the life and work of overseas Christian workers as that on the field, and just as we have done with the blog these past five years, we would be keen to give those on the outside looking in a better appreciation of what missionaries go through when they come home.

But that book deal will have to wait for another day. For now, as something of a dipping of the toe back in these waters, I (Craig) shall offer some thoughts specific to my own experience of these past thirteen months.

The world is more beautiful than I remembered

The Ring of Steall

In the end, I didn’t exactly spend ‘a decent chunk of my Saturdays…on top of hills’, as I’d been promising myself back in December 2013. In that regard, I’d fatally overlooked two important realities of home assignment: a tight budget, and the eye-watering cost of fuel (which, inevitably, is only now beating a steady retreat).

Still, the year abounded with those moments of connection with the natural world which will forever remain seared on my consciousness. I’ll think back on the view over the wilderness of Rannoch Moor on that improbably sun-drenched April morning during our conquest of the West Highland Way. Or contemplating my tee shot at the 10^th on Royal Dornoch’s Struie Course, as the sun caught the higher peaks of the Dornoch Firth. Or the lesson in humility and smallness that is Alaska’s Tracy Arm Fjord (particularly enjoyable from the private corner I managed to find on a 1,400-capacity cruise liner). Or the afternoon spent in the company of humpback whales on the same trip. Or the pleasure in conquering ten Munros. Or December’s surprising – yet welcome – opportunity to drive to a last-minute church date in Kyle of Lochalsh, and happily consent to being dumbstruck by Buchaille Etive Mor one last time.

We will be going back to the natural beauty of the Beni region in due course, but my goodness, it has been a joy to re-connect with the inclines and declines of the North.

And the world has come to Scotland

My lunch routine while attending Cornhill Scotland usually involved a two-minute toddle from its Bath Street headquarters to the Sainsbury’s Central on Buchanan Street. The backing noise was almost always a constant murmur of foreign tongues. Prolonged absences like ours tend to accentuate trends, and there is no doubt that Glasgow in particular has never seen such ethnic diversity as it does today. Yes, that brings its own challenges – but, oh, what tremendous opportunities! Should the Lord bring us back to Scotland in the years ahead, our days of ministry to the nations would be anything but over.

Ministry is in our veins

And wherever we’d end up, we’re pretty certain that we’ve now passed a ‘point of no return’ when it comes to our 9-to-5.

A further affirmation of this took place in early July. For years, Amanda had waxed lyrical to me about those endless summers she, her family and friends would spend at a place called ‘Guelph Bible Camp’, effectively demanding that I join her in camp counselling work in the event of us ever being back in Canada for the summer. Inevitably, once our rough plans for 2014 were in place, those pleas re-surfaced, and I agreed, albeit reluctantly – by this time in Bolivia, I was exhausted, desperate to come home and get a bit of R&R, and most definitely not seeking out new ministry opportunities.

Well, Guelph Bible Youth Camp 2014 turned out to be probably the most purposeful, life-affirming and purely enjoyable week of the year. Cornhill, of course, had been a wonderful experience, but Guelph was our first proper opportunity of the year to put that learning into practice and, above all, minister the word of God to young people who, delightfully, were hungry for it. If those special seven days were merely a foretaste of the next two or three years in Bolivia, then the 15^th of January could hardly come any sooner.

‘The darkness has not overcome it’

The lads and lassies of Cornhill Scotland

We are slowly but surely learning to beware drawing sweeping conclusions from afar. Occasionally during our time away from Bolivia, we have heard of developments on the field that concern us a little. At the same time, we are all too aware that a distance of over 6,000 miles prevents us from having a fuller appreciation of things in Trinidad. This stops us from getting too wound up about said matters.

A significant contributing factor to this mentality has been our experience of things the other way around. During our four years in Trinidad, all the information we needed about an ever-gathering spiritual gloom in the UK and Canada was just a click away. Chaplains were being thrown out of schools, governments were busily re-defining that which God has definitively delineated, and, most depressingly of all, the Church of Scotland was proving itself about as useful a protector of the Christian faith as a three-year-old child of a bag of chocolate buttons.

None of the above has been reversed, of course, and I suspect we westerners had better brace ourselves for ever more hostile conditions. But the benefit of this year for us has been to witness the lives and work of those who refuse to succumb, to hear of those outside-the-box thinkers who are speaking prophetically into the most surprising of situations, to witness a generation who have had to decide like never before where they stand, and who are choosing with pleasure to plant their feet in the ground marked ‘Solid Rock’: to see, if you will, the bigger picture.

Four years abroad pales in comparison to the four decades that a couple we know spent engaged in overseas Christian ministry; we had the pleasure of their company earlier this year. They, too, are concerned at the general direction of society, yet claim to have never witnessed such wholehearted commitment to the cause of Christ among students and young adults. If the group of young men and women I had the pleasure of studying alongside at Cornhill are anything to go by, their optimism is well justified.

No man is an island

With the Dove family in Ohio

Not exactly a revelation, this. We have never lacked in friendships in Trinidad, a most hospitable town, but the majority of these – by necessity, of course – have tended to require that we shoulder the burdens of others, rather than experience a more balanced ‘weight distribution’, if you like.  This is the experience of many involved in full-time Christian ministry. So it has been tremendously energising to be around friends and family who have made time for us, opened their homes to us, and prayed with us, granting us full permission to behave in as undignified a manner as the occasion will permit.

Thrillingly, some of these are people we did not even know this time last year, further proof in particular of the value of my time at Cornhill. Indeed, in a few cases, Amanda and I have had the pleasure of spending significant extra-curricular time with these students and (where applicable) their spouses.

Having lived abroad for many years, we do not expect to be able to maintain regular contact with all such individuals. But what an encouragement to know that the work in Bolivia will feature in the thoughts and prayers of so many more.

We have a great church family

This one really was a revelation. Having attended Shettleston New for almost two years before going to Bolivia, we knew this to be the case, but it has only been in the last year that we have realised how scant our evidence was for such a judgement.

Our experience of fellowship on a Sunday back then would typically revolve around a core group of friends in the church at a similar age and stage to ourselves. I would play bass with them in the church music group, then we would meet together for a chat in the coffee area post-service, with the banter train more often than not chuntering along to another venue as the afternoon progressed. We knew the names and faces of many others, but in most cases, that was as far as it went. Indeed, come to think of it, our midweek Bible study group was largely made up of the same people.

Fast-forward four years, and that friendship group (with whom we are still in regular contact) had moved on to various other fellowships around the city. Would we still feel at home at Shettleston New?

Any doubts were dispelled within minutes of our first entrance that December morning as, one after another, people welcomed us with the warmest of embraces. They had certainly not forgotten us, though our grasp of their names and faces had become tenuous at best.

Thirteen months later, I suspect things are not quite so one-sided, and it is here that Amanda has to take a lot of credit. She came here determined to dedicate much of her time during the week to supporting the work of the church; Wednesdays were spent helping the mother-and-toddlers ministry, and then serving lunches to the community, while on Friday mornings she made a point of attending ‘The New Place’, a time for tea, toast and a blether, which sees a number of visitors, but is mostly attended by members of the congregation.

As the year progressed, and as most of our weekends were filled with church engagements around the UK, Amanda’s midweek presence at Shettleston proved vitally important in maintaining contact with people we were unable to see on Sundays. But more importantly, our wider church family have gotten to know us much better than before in the process. And while we do not doubt the sincerity of their prayers for us in the past, the emotional connection between us has been considerably strengthened. They now have greater ownership of us and of our ministry, and we, to paraphrase Paul in his letter to the Philippians, have them in our hearts.