good times ahead.

So here I am, in Gillingham, having travelled 28 hours to be here..and it literally just feels like home. It actually doesn't even feel like I left. I have just slotted right back in where I used to be with the people, the kids and everything. All the worry about whether I would be able to fit in again, what would happen when I was here, how I would survive was all uncalled for. Jesus had it all sorted. silly me.

The plane journey was 28 hours of flicking between banter with an old Irish man about the recession, weird moments of bursting into tears about leaving everyone back home, sleeping and really heavy food. good times.

I got picked up from the airport by a welcome committee waving English flags then home for a proper English fry-up. Perfect. Then the 24 hours of pre-prepared itinerary began.

I'm unsure whether people truly understand the nature of an English football match. It consists firstly with a trip to the pub, then a large amount of angry fans waving their fists in the air, yelling explicits at the ref and all players and occasionally a brawl will erupt in the stands. The players spend alot of their time rolling around on the ground pretending they're hurt so the other team gets in trouble and what would a Gillingham match be without two players being sent off for dirty tactics? I spent my time joining in with the fist waving and yelling comments like 'what were you thinking?!' So classic. I'll become a proper football hooligan within two years and be starting brawls all over the place.

It has been so good seeing everyone. I went and saw heaps of people that worked for Gillingham Youth For Christ and church families from last time I was here. Somehow I managed to get roped into playing pirates with some of the young kids, which pretty much ended up with me as the baddie everytime and getting attacked with swords, umbrellas and fists. Quality.

Then dinner with my old host family, The Prankards. Their six year old son had been worrying all day about whether he would understand me or not. So his greeting to me, with an outstretched hand ready to shake mine was, 'Hello my name is Alfie, Do you speak English?' So good. This worry was overcome when we started a band with his mini drum kit and guitar. So if you hear of a New Zealander becoming famous in a band with the youngest boy ever, you will know it's me.

As much as I miss home and everyone, I do truly have this deepset feeling this is where I'm meant to be, a feeling I haven't felt so strongly since being here last. Everyone has been so good to me. And with the conversations I've been having with people from the church, it sounds like people are being brought to Gillingham from all over the place with similar thoughts, passions and hearts for this time. I can't even imagine what the next two years will hold. God has been so good and has provided for me so far a place to live, a wad of cash that was waiting for me from an anonymous sponsor and a volunteering position right back with Gillingham Youth For Christ. Tonight I'm gunna be in the high school age drop in centre where the kids that usually hangout on the streets with nothing to do come and hangout in a safe environment, get cared for, listened to and just generally hung out with. It is truly amazing and I can't wait.

In other news, I am possibly the only one in Gillingham that has a topknot. Apparently it's gunna be banned in youth club and classed as social suicide. Or maybe I will start a trend?

Watch this space.

here we are.

Oh Gillingham. You draw me back every time.
This town, has captured me from the moment I arrived in the year I came out of high school.
The drop in centres, the youth, the community, the need, the people.
And since then if I haven't been there, I have been dreaming of being there.
And now the wait is over.
It's my time to go back.
And in eight short days I will once again be there.

It has been a dream. Five weeks ago I left my full-time retail job, with the hope of finding out where I was headed, my purpose, and to cement a plan for my life.
And here I am, preparing to go back to England, with a one way plane ticket and a two year working visa.

The thought of being somewhere where I know I am meant to be, where I know amazing things will happen, working towards something bigger than me, fills me with such a huge feeling of excitement and freedom but also is so daunting. I never knew that sometimes when a dream becomes reality, no matter how long you have hoped for it to happen, stepping into it is still terrifying.

But I know that Jesus never lets me down and has been with me every step of the way so far.

Mindblowing.

It's going to be such a journey.

And I truly can't wait.

wild hope.

I like to think that this is the sort of hope that doesn't have to rely on the possibles, that isn't restricted to the worlds view of what you can do, that is full of wildly dreaming for things that seem ridiculous to others, that doesn't rely on your talents or education, but relies on something far greater and bigger. It's hope without boundaries, that isn't safe, tame or realistic. It is the hope that I can dream amazing things, and God will use me to carry them out. It is a hope that I can truly change the world I am in, no matter what.

I'm deciding to wildly hope.

And trust that it will make a difference.