LOOKING FORWARD TO EASTER

In the heart of  our land is the Gower Peninsular, one of Britain’s best kept secrets, they say, but in the heart of the Gower is an even greater secret, but one we need to share abroad. On the cliff top, over looking  Oxwich Bay is a very special place, Nicholaston House. Here is a welcome for all who need healing,   refreshing, or renewing of their faith.

‘Looking forward to Easter’ was a special week of preparation for our celebration of Easter, (Passover as some prefer to call it.) What a privilege to step into this house, to read afresh God’s promise  written on the walls of the foyer, ‘In this place you will find peace,’  and to know God was meeting with us in a special way as we were welcomed by the dedicated staff, settled into  the beautiful rooms with views across the gardens to the bay, and oh yes, to be  well satisfied by the delicious meals provided. Our fellow guests had soon become friends, and now we were safe and secure, ready to experience the ministry God had provided to refresh, restore and lead us deeper in our walk with him.

Out of her own experience of healing Helena first asked us all to introduce and share a little of our own walk with the Lord before she introduced the theme of our meditations, which was  Intimacy with Jesus, the shepherd King, the Lover in the story of the Shulamite recorded in the Song of Songs attributed to Solomon.  

Our time together met needs of spirit, soul and body. Those with still strong legs scrambled their way down to the bay, strode, or even puffed their ways to the top of Cefn Bryn while some of us were blessed by a quiet stroll in the beautiful gardens.

The Celtic chapel is a special part of the blessing. Staff and visitors met together each morning for devotions. Not only did God speak to us through his word, but helped us raise the voices some of us   thought we had lost, teaching us to listen too as he blended our voices in harmony, while the spirit of the Lord was present to heal.

We were not just looking forward, but felt we were walking towards Easter as we shared the Seder meal, where we were taught the significance of the Jewish Passover, - looking back to  the Passover lamb who died for them in Egypt, but of Christ our Passover whose death and resurrection we celebrate.

It was a precious meditation as we followed the Stations of the Cross (with pictures placed strategically around the house,) where we read the appropriate scriptures, ending with a time of worship in the chapel, while our last evening together was a very meaningful sharing of communion, our Lord’s Supper.

Good Friday: Our last time of worship in the chapel, and then those who could joined in a united service of local churches, gathering around the cross on the green at Reynoldstone and then carrying it to the top of Cefn Bryn.

As we returned to celebrate Easter Day in our own fellowships, I trust we will remain impacted by the meditations Helena led us in concerning Intimacy: that we will determine to refuse negativity but accept God’s delight in us as the Shulamite had to; continue to experience that wonderful sense of belonging; know he calls us too by name, and  share that deep experience of companionship that those first disciples knew, who shared their lives as friends of the Master. May we press on to know God as Lord, as our tender hearted parent, and provider;  understanding and being understood.

I’m sure we were all deeply challenged as we considered those blockages which may so easily arise, and even as I write to share my blessings, I ask myself, ‘Am I willing to be alone with my Saviour?’ May I, as the Shulamite had to, guard against complacency, and ever keep that spark of first love ready to burst into a flame, and to sing of those ten thousand reasons we each have to bless our wonderful Lord.

Yes, we were looking forward to Easter, but now may we all walk with confidence in the reality of Easter Day. Now is Christ risen indeed.

GRACE AWAY WEEKEND – 2016

Barton Camp is a great venue, especially when ‘Grace’ gathers as a family. We were well over seventy of us this year. - Wonderful to feel that it is Jesus has called us together, and that we are come up into the mountain with him, for refreshing, yes, and commissioning before he sends us forth again.

It would be our third year in this venue, and I knew I would be spoiled. A room to myself instead of bunk beds, and excused from washing up or cooking rotas. 

No Kids Club for us. Our own wonderful youth had come from Uni to care for the little ones. Why then did I have misgivings about coming? I may be of the same age as Caleb who at 85 was ready to claim a mountain, but not too steady on my pins, I was afraid of being a liability. Should I stay home and enjoy my lonely comfort?

But no. Our wonderful leadership team had been working so hard to give us all a special time of blessing. All they wanted was for us to come and be blessed. Thank God I had sense not to let the enemy rob me of this blessing.

Nearing meal time, the dining room (or was it the dinning room?) was filled with happy families, the children so happy with their playmates even when  rain kept them from adventure playgrounds outside. Always a happy hustle in the kitchen where cuppa’s were on offer while they prepared tasty meals and treats, and a special ‘tent of meeting’ where we met for worship. (With special drapes on the ceiling, it has the appearance, but not the discomforts of a tent.)

Each year the ministry is different. This time Ewan and Tom brought ministry from Ephesians, all to the end that we might be ready to go out with the gospel. And while the wind roared around the buildings, God’s Holy Spirit was moving so that, as a field of corn, we bowed before his great strength.

But now we got to the nitty gritty. Teaching on Spirit-led holiness and Spirit-led power are all to the end that we might put on our shoes of the Gospel of Peace, go forth and tell others. This is the hard bit.

Oh dear, whatever wonderful opportunities God gives me, in the schools and through my writing, still there is this issue of personal evangelism.  I was not the only one feeling convicted. But no – ‘there is no condemnation to those in Christ Jesus.’ Once I win the struggle of telling God that I am willing for him to use me, all I have to do is go out into the world, knowing that it is  he who will create opportunities for me to tell others that God is willing to be to them too a wonderful Saviour.

Thank God for his family of Grace, and for his ministry to and through each one of his children.

THANKSGIVING FOR MY SISTER AND MY FRIEND – given at my sister’s funeral

It was when Mary had joined me for a year in New Guinea that one of the Missionaries children asked me, ‘Is Auntie Mary your sister or your friend?’ I was delighted to tell her that she was my sister and my friend.

We were in a family of four. Big brother John, Mary, me next and then our little sister Joy. We used to say the rhyme, ‘2,4, 6, 8…..’, but it was when we found salvation that we became very close.

Mary  by now was trapped in a very unhappy marriage. But I was teaching with Esther and had attended the house groups in her home – they had just been led into the Apostolic Church, - and was challenged to leave the cult in which we had been brought up. It was a very hard time for me. Our parents, and the dear friends with whom we had been brought up, thought I had gone to the devil. I was scared to meet them, and equally scared of the folk in the little Apostolic church in Barking where they spoke in tongues, but some would behave somewhat strangely. How could I go on?

I came home from the prayer meeting to find Mary had been sent back home by her husband. Tragedy for their marriage, but what a strength for me. It was just a few weeks and Mary too had left the ‘Bible Students’ and together we were accepted into Apostolic Fellowship at Barking. But before she left, she had had opportunities to speak out boldly of our faith in the Trinity,  that Jesus is our Lord and our God and the Holy Spirit a person within the Godhead.

At that time I found great difficulty in expressing myself and had felt that I had to speak by my actions, but together we were able to make our position plain.

Mary’s difficulties in her marriage increased, for now her husband blamed all his troubles onto Pentecost and the Apostolic Church. One evening he had come round to see our parents to warn them of the great danger we were in. Mary and I were huddled in my bedroom, wrapped in a blanket of depression fearing the outcome, when suddenly Mary began to sing –

            ‘I’ve wondrous peace through trusting, a well of joy within…..

It goes on ‘To the uttermost Jesus saves.’    We sang it right through, and that little room was filled with glory.

It was on one of the occasions when her husband had left her that we went to a Divine healing service. ‘We believe that God can heal marriages,’ the minister declared. Mary went forward for prayer for the healing of her marriage, and God did heal, though she had to face many trials before then.

Mary began to have serious health issues, which doctors had thought caused by her difficult marriage, and eventually they found she had a very large brain tumour. She was a tremendous testimony in it all, asking for all those who knew her to pray, and facing it all without fear. She was the Area Women’s leader in  London at that time, and she had courage to lead these big rallies, even though she struggled for some time with recalling  words.

Now reunited, she was able to care for her husband until he died.(He was 20 years older than she was.) She continued to care for his older sister for another 9 years, while she was a faithful deaconess in the Ilford assembly, like Phoebe, ‘full of good works.’

How happy we were when our dear Pastor Les cast his garment over her and became such a wonderful caring husband. With Les and Joel such good friends what a happy foursome we were, and I was able to see so much of my Sister and Friend.

In our childhood Mary was not only the pretty, but also the clever one, and went on to gain her degree at Cambridge,- how it is that now I am the one left with my wits I don’t know, but I do know Mary was always diligent to see she had her quiet time, and she had that deep relationship with the Lord with could not be destroyed.

Sometimes in her dementia she would get delusions, and if Les phoned me in the day I would know he was having difficulty. He would put Mary on to speak to her sister. It was always about  some meeting where she was supposed to be ministering, or someone in need she had to visit, and she could not convince her husband to take her..

‘Well, we’ll pray.’ So I prayed.

‘Well, you weren’t much good.’ She told me.

I acted indignant. ‘Yes, I was. I prayed.’  ‘Oh yes.’ She seemed satisfied.

It was just a few months ago that I had the sad task of telling Mary that our brother John had died. I took the album of us as children. Yes, she recognised John.

I told her, ‘John is in heaven now.’ ‘Oh!’ and her face lit up. This was something wonderful. She listened happily as I shared something of her testimony with the friends who had brought me. As it was time to go we had a time of prayer. ‘Would you like to pray, Mary?’ ‘Yes’ she said, and burst out into tongues. 

Death is always an enemy and there is sadness in our hearts, for Mary has been a sister and a friend to many of us, but for me I shall always remember how, when she saw me come to visit her she would  joyfully tell the carers, ‘She’s my sister.’

I am so privileged to have had such a lovely sister and friend.

MARY - MEMORIES

Tribute to a special sister – Pauline writes

‘My earliest memory of my elder sister is of her playing peep-bo with me. I was lying by an open window in my pram. The breeze was blowing the net curtain and I could hear my mother’s voice, ‘Don’t wake Pauline.’ But this was our secret and we were supremely happy.

Two of our four siblings, we were the closest, and as so often happens, it was a love hate relationship, our happiness so often marred by jealousy.

I don’t think Mary often had need to be jealous of me. To me she was the clever, the beautiful one. I remember longing to be six because I thought then I would be like Mary, but of course by the time I was six she was eight and there was no change.

Mary seemed to sail through life. In the Juniors, all the boys loved her. In high school exams held no fear for her, and she went on to gain a scholarship to Cambridge. 

There was no competition academically. I was much happier at school once they accepted that I was not university material, and was at Saffron Walden teacher training college whilst Mary was at Cambridge and we got on much better now we were living our separate lives.

Back at home, we both went into teaching but I don’t think Mary ever had the satisfaction in this that I did. We all found our Dad difficult to live with, probably Mary more so because she  was a stronger character and so, sadly, she found her escape from the confines of home to find she was trapped in an unsuitable and very unhappy marriage.

Mary, so beautiful, so confident, gradually had all her confidence stripped away, but it was perhaps through this that she turned to the Lord, not just for intellectual satisfaction – we had been brought up in the Bible Students –but for salvation and all that it entails.

We became very close, but whereas I had found deliverance from my jealousy, it was very hard for Mary now, for I had become the one to take the lead in coming into the Apostolic Church, and while Esther and I were able to go the Penygroes convention, and had been baptised in the Holy Spirit, she felt she was missing out spiritually. But God had his own ways of meeting with her, and when her husband had a break down, which led on to times of separation, she was able to share with us in many of the blessings of being in Apostolic fellowship. Together we were received into fellowship in the little Apostolic Church in Barking (in London’s East End)

But now, while we single girls were hoping for a husband, Mary was feeling she was missing out on God’s blessings because of her married status, and that I had the best spiritually. It certainly didn’t help her marriage that her husband felt she was closer to me.

At a time when they were separated, Mary came out to join me for a year on the mission field in New Guinea. She taught in my place so that I could concentrate on language study and the Sunday School work, and was wonderful in coping with all the hardship of primitive conditions. She was thrilled when the suggestion was made that we return together, she teaching in a government school while I gave myself fully to the Children’s work.   

We returned to UK, and she coped with teaching, which, while not primitive, is still a great challenge, until she was told she could not be accepted for New Guinea because of her marital status – she was separated, not divorced. Her world seemed to have collapsed around her.

But she had previously gone forward at a service for Divine healing and asked prayer for the healing of her marriage.   Now, in wonderful ways, God brought about this miracle. Her husband, by now an old man – he was 20 years older than she was – was glad to ‘try again.’

Many years before, the Lord had impressed on Mary that she should spend an hour with Him each day. She had insisted on keeping this time on a previous occasion when he had returned to her. At that time he was seeking to brain wash her, blaming all their marital difficulties on Pentecost and the Apostolic Church – and she believed it was this precious quiet time which enabled her to survive.

He began to continue with this brain washing, but the Lord intervened and they were willing to accept each other as they were. It was then, when Mary had learned contentment in her lot in caring for her husband, -  I was now in Ghana,- that her husband realised that there was a serious problem with Mary’s health and they diagnosed a brain tumour.

Mary was a wonderful testimony through this time, asking for messages to be sent to all the assemblies to pray. She was the Area Women’s leader, and she continued with this, even as she was convalescing and had difficulty in recalling words. She made an amazing recovery, even driving again in London traffic.

She had been a faithful member, and deaconess in the small assemblies she had been attending; Barking/Ilford first, then Exeter when her husband bought a cottage in Branscome, Devon, thinking he was making it impossible for her to get to an Apostolic church, and then when they were back in Ilford. Mary would never come to church unprepared. She would be quick to pray, always praising the Lord, and usually had a  scripture portion, or something to contribute. She had learned the secret of godliness with contentment.

She cared for her husband until his death, and then continued to care for his elderly sister who lived in the flat upstairs, until she died nine years later. In all she had fourteen years as a widow until her dear Leslie took her into his heart to love and to cherish as she deserved to be. 

Those years which we had as a foursome were very precious. Mary had thought for me to marry a pastor had been a wonderful honour, as indeed it was, and God had the same honour for her. For some years we went on holidays together, and up to recent years, especially after I was widowed, we would meet in Gnoll park. They would come there from the prayer meeting in SAron. Coffee in the visitors centre, a walk round the lake and a meal together, and we would go on our way. But with the passing years the walks got less and eventually we were no longer able to meet like this, and though I was occasionally able to drive to Ystrad, my life line with my precious sister was the telephone.

Mary had been wonderful in her support of me. Especially since Joel went ahead of me to heaven, it has been so precious to be able to share my joys and sorrows, hopes and fears with Mary, who would always promise to pray, and she would always ask what I had planned so that she might pray for me.

Even when I knew there was no hope of her remembering to pray,  I knew it was in her heart to do so, and sometimes she would just pray for a need as we were talking together.

I have been so blessed to have such a precious, godly sister. She has been a witness, even in her dementia, content, and loving, shedding abroad the fragrance of her wonderful Saviour.

THE COURAGE OF CALEB

Switching to Facebook, I was surprised to find my profile picture filling the page,  congratulations abounding.

It was taken on the occasion of my eightieth birthday, but how it got onto my page at this time I have no idea. Sometimes I think my computer has a mind of its own, while at other times I know that God is in charge, yes, even of computers.

But this reminder of a big ‘O’ that was almost five years ago, brings me to my hero, Caleb, who said, ‘I am eighty five years old, yet……… my natural health has not abated.’ I was always hoping to be like him. He was begging Joshua to let him be involved in the fight against their enemies. ‘Give me this mountain,’ he cried, and Joshua did give it to him, but he had to wage war against their enemies and claim it.

Some people, turning eighty, or even seventy, think it is time to give up, or at least retire and enjoy a leisurely life, and I’ve had loving friends who told me I am doing too much, but thank God, he doesn’t tell me this but reminds me of his calling and assures me of his strength and blessing. But sadly, with a ‘shooggily’ shoulder and a rickety knee, in these nearly five years since my ‘big O’, my natural health seems to have been abating. Caleb, are you letting me down?

Gently, the Lord reminds me that I have never had too much natural health. A bonny baby until, at two years old I only just survived whooping cough, after that I  was a concern to my mother. ’Pauline, you are not strong enough to be a missionary,’ I was told, while when I arrived in New Guinea some of my colleagues  gave me a year at the most to last the rigorous conditions.

Before I went overseas, I was struggling against the wind and the rain to get to a convention service, and asked, ‘Lord, why do you give me so little strength?’ I did not have to wait for his answer. ‘I am sending you to a task that is beyond your strength and I want you to learn to rely on me.’

So today, when I set out for one of our local schools to take an assembly or teach Bible Explorer, wondering how I can find the strength, God reminds me of these words and I claim his promise, ‘The Lord is my strength and my song.’ Yes, he gives, not only strength, but joy too.

Still my hero, Caleb has inspired me, not just for his courage in old age, or his strategic skills in warfare, but by his endurance in hard times.

Remember – they were just ten days out of Egypt; the Promised Land within sight. Young and fit, he and Joshua knew they were well able to possess it, but because the rest of the spies refused to trust God and to lead the people in they too were condemned to wander for forty years in the wilderness.   

God had said, ‘Except for Joshua and Caleb, none of you will enter in. You will all die in the wilderness. But your children –‘

Imagine living with a people without hope. And yet, a generation did arise at Joshua’s call and  went in and possessed the land. Yes, it was the children who had grown up with a different spirit. I’m sure it was the teaching and example of Joshua and Caleb which had made the difference.  

We know Caleb had a special portion of health and strength. When all around him found old age to be ‘labour and sorrow,’ God made it up to him, and in his old age gave him strength to claim that mountain.

But we don’t read that he went on to fight another  battle.

No, he had set the example, but now he challenged the young men, maybe bribing them with the promise of marrying his daughter. ( I guess he had a good idea who would accept the challenge, and we read how it was Othniel who married Achsah and together they  went on to possess their possessions.)

Maybe this is why Caleb is still my hero. He helped me to hold on and trust God when our fellowship seemed to be at a low ebb. Now, widowed and in my eighties, when I am feeling weary and think  maybe it would be good  if God called me home, he reminds me of the ministry he has given me over the years and which still burns brightly in my heart. And he reminds me too of how he taught me to climb mountains when I was in New Guinea. Feeling I could go no further, he asked me, ‘Can you take one step?’ I can always take one step, and that one leads on to another.

So today, with the spirit of Caleb, may we Senior Citizens  ask him for strength to take one step. And if our natural strength is abating, we can still reach out to the younger ones who have so many burdens to bear, and take what we can off their loads and, like Caleb, help to raise a generation who will shake off the unbelief and rejection of their fathers and arise and do exploits for God.

P.S. I have just realised: Caleb had been robbed of forty of the best years of his life while they marched round and round in the wilderness. Now God was restoring the years the locusts had eaten. Yes, we can emulate, but not envy. God will give each one of us his best, if we will trust him.

CHRISTMAS SHOPPING

I may not have had a bath in years, though yes, I do shower, but now I enjoyed telling my friends that I was going to Bath.

My legs are not up to much shopping these days, but when you live alone it is good to seize any opportunity for fun and fellowship. With my dear mate Kitty beside me, we were on our way.

Meanwhile a prayer partner, my blind friend who lives in Spain had been given a picture of an old fashioned bath. What could it mean? Then she remembered Pauline was on her way to Bath. Could there be some special need? She was praying for me throughout the day. And God was answering.

By the time we had walked  into the town my legs had had enough, but a handy coffee shop was a refuge. Everywhere was full, but someone moved so there were two seats for us together. We were refreshed. Next stop a toilet. Go to M & S we were told. A feast for the eyes, though we didn’t buy anything before we queued for this facility. Ready then for directions to the Abbey. Like a great mother ship surrounded by people bobbing about on a stormy  sea,or maybe a mother hen, ready to gather her chicks, but  we found the doors shut. We must wait for the Carol service for shoppers which would be on the hour, and sadly no cafeteria.

But all we wanted was a place to sit. We went into the Abbey bookshop, and here was an open door into the Abbey, where we were able to rest, basking in the beauty and blessing of God’s house.

 A stewardess greeted us as she passed and we invited her to sit with us. How wonderful to share the various ways God has led us, and we felt the Lord’s touch in a special way as we joined hands and prayed together.

Not only had this gracious lady blessed us, but she directed us to St. Michael’s for a simple lunch. No, not far. Soup and bread and butter for me. Just right. Then another  struggle through the surging crowds  and by now the doors of the Abbey were wide open and a wonderful welcome for all the happy, but weary shoppers, until every seat was filled.

Just a twenty minute service and how blessed we were by the simple message and participation in the carols and prayers.  We went on our way with the gift of a Jesus booklet and offer of prayer or ministry. They were doing this every hour and each time that great abbey was packed. What a wonderful bir

thday gift for the Christ child, our Saviour.

We decided to have a cup of tea in the café in M & S, but a fruitless search for two seats led us directly to the expected queue for the toilets. As I came out, two seats were vacated - just for us. My dear Kitty then queued for refreshment while I sat and enjoyed ‘people watching’. Everyone seemed so happy, as if they had all been as blessed as we had been.

Time  to make our way back for the bus. The lights were on, making the city a fairy land. It was only  then that the heaven’s open, though it had been raining in Porthcawl all day long. How grateful we were to find the bus waiting for us, and to step out of our dripping coats. And though it was a very windy day, somehow it had always been behind our backs, blowing us along.

Yes, we were worn out. I could hardly move the next day, but our trip to Bath had been a blessing I will long remember, and remember, too, the gift of friendship and fellowship. Especially I thank God for those who,  no longer able to share such blessings, claim God’s guidance and protection for us through their prayers.

A PEARL ANNIVERSARY

No,  not a wedding anniversary, but very special nevertheless. The first of our Ladies Weekends was held  at Bryntirion Bible College, Bridgend, but of later years we have been meeting at Hebron Hall, Dinas Powys and  are now named our ‘Well-being conference.’  It is thirty years since it began and we thought it worthy of a special celebration.

I am privileged to have been one of the ‘old originals’, but sadly missed a few through the years. Bryntirion was on our doorstep, so Joel could bring me, then pick me up in time for us to make the evening service. He was not keen to take me all the way to Dinas Powys, and yes, I confess, I thought I was getting too old.

Then they booked an additional weekend for Eunice to lead a prayer seminar. Asked to pray for good attendance, I became part of the answer. Promised a lift, yes, and a room to myself, it was a mountain top experience, and I knew now that I must be share in this special ministry among the ladies.

This weekend it  was wonderful to be reminded of those beginnings; especially for me  to hear Mair recount how God’s hand had been heavy upon her, and how she and Miriam had stepped out in faith to launch this ministry. As she shared of Pastor Ian MacPherson’s reaction when she dared to ask him to be our speaker, I realised how indebted I am to his ministry, for he had carried this message for women in his heart for over twenty years before being given this opportunity to share it, and it is a word I have treasured and seen outworked in my life; to know that, as Mary carried the Word of God in her womb, so to us it is given to carry within us the living Word, and we too can know a quickening and nurturing until the right time comes for it to be brought forth. I often say to people, I may not have given birth to children, but God does give me books and poems, as well as other ministries.

There must be so many more testimonies of how God has spoken to us through the years.

Usually we’ve had  women bringing the word to us through the years, but for this special anniversary, we were back to a man, our dear Pastor Warren Jones, with his wife Anne. His theme was Treasure Seekers, and the treasure, of course, the Pearl of great price, our Wonderful Saviour..

We are always sent home with a gift. Last year we had a little box but - no portion of cake inside. It was empty! We were sent home to fill it with prayers of thanksgiving. Mine soon became full. I am a writer after all. So now I have a  book in which I write these  special prayers of thanksgiving. But this year, can you guess? We had already had a piece of our Pearl anniversary cake at our surprise Saturday afternoon party, with jelly and ice cream, games and all. But now we each had a pearl in a little presentation box to bring home to remind us, not just of a very special weekend, but of Jesus, our Pearl of greatest price.

We had special times of praise and worship; special testimonies, and special times of fun and games, and fellowship, but for me the most special time was when we gathered around the Lord’s table for communion. It was  the beginning of the day, before breakfast. I felt overcome with emotion. What is this? I asked. Then the Lord told us, it was a very special time, but it is because we are all so special to him that he wants us to be able to experience this communion with him at any and every time.

So, to all those wonderful ladies who work so hard to make this weekend so very special, and who let us know we are never too old to come and bless as well as be blessed, and to our wonderful Heavenly Father, who gave his precious Son to be our Treasure, and who meets with us year by year at our Well-Being conference at Hebron Hall, a big big thank you