altars of thankfulness.

So, sometimes I think I just need to remind myself actually how good God has been to me.

There is such a temptation to lose perspective and become so bound by only what I can humanly do, without actually seeing the bigger picture of what God has already done and the promise of what he will do.
I am reminded of a sermon I once heard. Whenever Abraham moved anywhere, he built an altar and praised God for everything that he had done for him. Not only this but he revisited them, and remembered all the amazing things and how good God had been over his life.
I need to start, metaphorically, building altars of thankfulness and NEVER lose sight of what he's doing right now and praising him for how he brought me to this point in the first place.

God is, and will continue to be, so good to me.
I just need to keep remembering that so I don't lose sight of the big picture.
Altars of thankfulness will be appearing all over Gillingham.

these days.

It has truly been such a mix over the last few weeks. I guess it wouldn't be life without the good and the bad. But in it all I still know without a doubt I am living the dream and that through it all I am here. And it is where I am meant to be. With the Christmas festivities nearly over, there is so much that has happened. Where to begin?
There is so much festive spirit over here. I am unsure whether it's the weather, the large majority of terraced housing that all seem to be donned with copious amount of christmas lights, or whether it is the amount of festive activities I have been involved in, but Christmas has been here for weeks. It started with the gingerbread house making extravaganza. The blue prints were drawn by Alfie Prankard (age 6) and then the building began. I am unsure whether more sweets ended up on the house or in his belly. But believe me, it was truly epic.

Then there has been the Christmas parties for all 3 of our drop ins. For our 3rd Ave drop in we ended up having a full on sit down Christmas meal, which involved turkey being spat everywhere, party poppers being set off in other kids eyes, and during the part where we try to tell them about Jesus, the complete opposite of silence. Mayhem but absolute quality.
The Christmas party at our Skinner street drop in was amazing. After the games and the festive food, we had planned and pre-warned them, that we would be doing a little Jesus talk. Just before it was about to happen at least five more kids mooched in, and although there were a large amount of inappropriate comments and banter throughout the chat (which I have become immune to) I am so sure that the majority of those kids heard that Jesus loved them. TRULY AMAZING. Then there was our last football session for the year. And the ones that weren't there, were at the old folks home singing them Christmas Carols. SO amazing. Seriously, the relationships we are building with these kids, and the way Jesus is slowly but surely working in them is incredible. It gets me so excited to know that, if they aren't getting positive words or love from anywhere else, that they are getting it from us and in turn seeing Jesus. Some of the changes in the kids are so noticeable. And there is so much more to come. Bring on next year. The beauty of Gillingham, is that although we have closed our drop-ins for Christmas, the kids are still around and we are still able to see them and chat to them. So good.

However, homesickness is something I would love to live without. I know it as a mixed up, messy feeling that on the odd occasion, threatens to overwhelm every area of my life in Gillingham.  God has been so good through this though. And even in my moments of doubt and uncertainty, the only place I have felt peace and calm is in our 133 drop in centre. I like to think this is God's way of telling me this is where I am meant to be. And it's been a huge learning thing. God has shown me that sometimes the best way to get rid of your own issues, is to focus on serving others, because through this you begin to see the bigger picture. And realise that being here is a blessing. THIS IS MY HOME FOR NOW. And I am truly blessed to be here. TRULY. The people, the kids, my friends and my church are all amazing. Each day here is truly a privilege.

Then there were my three days of Christmas. Being the token foreigner, I was so lucky to be shared around the church over the festive season. Christmas eve was with the Prankards, the family I lived with when I was here for my gap year. This family is truly AMAZING and have adopted me as their own. Blessed. Two year old Matilda and older brother Alfie greeted me at the door with huge cuddles and excitement. Then there was the usual winding them up with piggy backs, tickle fights and the like, Christmas lunch, copious amounts of tea and the unwrapping of presents. Followed by large amounts of carol singing and mulled apple juice at the Mauritz family. Then onto the Christmas eve service at church. This was TRULY beautiful. Imagine an old church with high ceilings and stained glass windows, with all the lights off and only lit with candles that each person in the congregation held whilst the echoes of carols filled the room. Possibly one of the most beautiful services ever. And then what English Christmas eve could be complete without a visit to the local pub? Yes, I like to think I have slotted in quite nicely.
The Barge is a favourite pub of ours in Gillingham.  Tim, the pub owner, is definitely a favourite of mine also. On this particular night he was wearing a hawaiian shirt and shorts and still sporting his white beard. He has this amazing way in which he knows everyone who comes into The Barge and greets them all, asking how they are and making jokes with each one. His son is still in school, but finds himself at home amongst the pub goers, and has become a regular in our card games on some evenings. He owns snakes and reptiles and keeps them in cages, and regularly tells of his want to collect even more. This Christmas eve, I managed to handle the snake, just casually, and have a bearded dragon clasp onto my denim jacket for a good 5 minutes. Only in Gillingham. Also, I debuted my pool skills, which just so happen to be as good as my football ones. oh dear.
Christmas day was spent with the lovely Guards and the Coopers. A day full of festivities, dancing and present opening. I am so lucky that I have people over here that love me. Then boxing day with my dear friend Ellie and her family. More food, presents and good times.
My oh my. Longest Christmas I have had in my life. It just keeps going.

Yesterday was the first day in ages I have actually stopped. And just let myself be. A woodland walk was the order of the day, with a packed picnic and some great company we set off to explore 46 acres of pleasant countryside (so it said on the sign). This was AMAZING,  and full of splashing in puddles in my gumboots, running down mudhills, spotting squirrels, drinking flasks of tea and just generally enjoying the fresh air. I think this needs to be a more regular occurence. I definitely miss countryside.

Tomorrow I head off to stay in a log cabin in Wales to see the new year in. The pictures show beautiful log cabins covered in snow in the midst of woods, but the forecast is mainly for rain. I am so looking forward to exploring and just being away. No matter what the weather. When will I ever stay in a log cabin again?! amazing. I love how these things just come to me. SO GOOD.

I love new years. the excitement, the hope, the anticipation and the unknown of what could and will happen in the 365 days to follow. I will definitely be writing a list of things that need to be done and accomplished in the new year. A whole fresh year spread before me.
See you in 2012 amigos.

Peter.

London at Christmas is manic. But truly amazing. I took a solo trip there a few weeks ago. I boarded a train after church one day and just went. Not only was the people watching amazing, but the atmosphere, the crisp winter air, and the lights that littered every street was truly a beauty. Covent Garden welcomed me with crowds of people watching street performers on the cobbled paths, a huge Christmas tree dotted with lights right in the centre, and the anticipation and excitement of the hustle and bustle that is London. I could literally just wander for hours, getting lost in the crowds and through the streets and feeling so tiny in the hugeness of it all. The train journey back to Gillingham was an interesting one. As my eyes threatened to close and drift off to sleep, the man opposite me answered his phone. After a chat with a friend, his attention trailed over to me, and with a bit of intrigue he proceeded to ask me as to why I was here and what I was doing. It's always the accent. After small talk, he proclaimed that he didn't believe in Jesus after everything that had happened to him in his life. As the train was approaching Gillingham station I promised to pray, to which he replied 'there's no need.' He offered his number in a genuinely friendly way and said that if I was ever in London and wanted to chat he would be free, 'the name's Peter' he gruffly said, followed with, 'I promise you, I will most likely be the most interesting person that you will ever listen to.' As I left the train, my mind boggled. I am so sure, even to this moment, that God was in that. Interesting, yet uncertain what it was all about. However, Peter is most definitely in my prayers. I was tired, and wonder whether I truly grabbed the opportunity God gave me in that train. I wonder whether I will ever take him up on the offer of a chat in London. I wonder if we will cross paths again. Thank goodness for God's grace and his presence in every situation. It is truly enough to cover my tiredness and lack of eloquence. Thank God.

interesting strangers.

I am unsure whether it is the fact I'm foreign, whether it's a change in me or my attitude, or whether English people are just friendlier, but it seems as if I have met far more people in unusual situations, than I ever did when I was back home. Let's just say that my interest and intrigue in other people, complete strangers even, has far from died down. If anything, being in another country has fueled this fascination, and I find myself in conversations with people that once I would have shied away from, finding out about their lives and being drawn in by different aspects of them. So bear with me as I recall several complete strangers, that I may never see again, but that with one short exchange of words, made me feel as if I had been let in on a small part of their lives. There's this part in me that is realising that everyone has a story if you just stop to listen. There is so much to be learnt and there is no doubt in my mind that God is amongst every meeting.

Walking up from the high street, my friend Becca and I met an old man carrying a huge plank of wood, and in the gale force wind it seemed to be acting as some kind of sail threatening to take him off into the sky. After his polite refusal of our offer to carry the load for him (involving some kind of over the top banter about me having huge muscles, so typical) we ended up walking with him in case he indeed ended up being blown across half of Gillingham. He was a man of 74, hoping to reach the age of 104 with a wirey white beard and a bony frail body, swamped by clothes that seemed almost giant in comparison. He had a cheery disposition and wittered away about how he was renovating a house in London, explaining that Gillingham was the cheapest place to get it. On hearing my accent he went onto the subject of my home country and people he knew there. Then before we knew it, we had to part ways. Although some would say I gained nothing from that conversation, I feel it was a privilege.

There is a man we have been hoping to see again in the pub. He is thin and wiry with a wrinkled and weathered face, as if he has had all that life offered. A pint glass is always never far from his hand. A conversation with him never fails to bring up religion, the 'forces' at work in this world, and challenges the very being and heart behind my faith. Having not seen him since April last year, and thinking it was a one time meeting, he popped up again at the pub last weekend. Conversation was once again struck up, and the questions of how and why I came back were thrown at me. As I talked, and sat and listened to him, I realised how little about life, the world and God I actually knew. And what a freeing feeling this was. That even though I know nothing, I can still be used, I am still over here for a purpose and that I am being worked on, sown into with every minute of the day. These coincidences of meeting people more than once, getting involved in their lives, sounds simple, but I know there is far more to it than coincidence. I'm pretty sure it's Jesus. I don't really know the reason, but i'm just going to roll with it and see where it goes.

It is seriously by God's grace I am in Gillingham. He has brought me from nothing, and promises to use me, work in me for HIS glory. I am always reminded of where I have come from, those two years where I thought I would never get back here. But his timing is perfect and he has brought me here for such a time as this. I have been waiting for the big event, the big voice telling me what I should be doing, what project or event God wants me to get stuck into. But maybe it's SIMPLE. Maybe, this is it. Being open to meeting strangers, getting involved in their lives and living a life of love as a testament to who Jesus is in me. Just maybe I have been looking for something BIG, when in reality it is small. We will see.

I was at a soup kitchen at one of the churches last week. And there was this little old lady. Her name is Vera and she is known for her constant prayer. Her face literally shone, as she chatted to me about how good God is and her passion to see God work. Her stories of answered prayer and her encouragement to keep on was amazing. She wasn't alot to look at, with a small hobble in her step, but she was fierce, and her heart is so steeped in Jesus. There was another lady also, that I sat and watched. Her gray hair was pulled back and her glasses sat on her little round nose. As I watched her, she was chatting to an unkempt woman who was hurriedly eating the soup in front of her, and divulging parts of her tragic story. The little lady from the church had her eyes fill with tears, as she hugged her goodbye and a promise of prayer was exchanged. I only hope that when I am older, I will care this much, I will still have my heart broken for the people Jesus wants. These ladies of over 60 are doing far more than I am. God is still using them, no matter of age or ability. So inspiring. And such a challenge.

My adventure is just beginning and I have WILD HOPE that there is far more to come. More than I could ever dream right now. More than I could humanly do on my own. May I never forget all the small things God does each day, and all the people he brings in my path.

oh, saint nick.

So the festive season is upon Gillingham. The air is getting cold, and the hope of snow is getting ever greater. As much as I don't enjoy winter, there is something truly AMAZING about the crisp air, kicking the leaves on the pavement as I walk everywhere, and being able to don the puffy coat that makes me look like a marshmallow. Or that I've eaten a million marshmallows. perfect.

I've been getting rather into the Christmas spirit this weekend. Laurie and Dave put up the Christmas tree, with my expert decorating assistance. Then this was quickly followed with an outing to a St. Nicholas Party. The Dutch celebrate St. Nicholas day as part of Christmas where basically an old Bishop with a beard, slightly resembling that of Santa, leaves sweets in your shoes if you leave them out for him to fill. After knocking on the door, taking my shoes off, labeling them with my name so St. Nick knew which were mine, 4 year old Sophie burst out with such joy, 'It's not really Saint Nicholas Day but he just MIGHT come.' She is truly gorgeous. I am very glad the families in my home group have such cute kids. And SO nice to have families to be with when mine are quite a way away. Blessing.
Then today, 6 year old Alfie, Martha and I undertook the huge feat of constructing a gingerbread house, complete with a snowman in the garden and a pretzel fence. It was a hugely anticipated occasion, with Alfie having drawn blue prints weeks in advance and having suggested possible sweets for each element of the house. SO CUTE. And such a success. With every added sweet he would go for a high five and holler different words of encouragement. A Sunday afternoon well spent.

The past few weeks have been a mix. The drop ins have been SO good. It seems like there are a couple of new groups of kids that have started coming into our evening ones. And it's so good to just be able to chat to them, make them cups of tea (the art of which I'm perfecting) and just be there. EVERYTIME I am chatting to one of the youth, there is NO doubt in my mind that this is where I am meant to be. There have been some conversations, and some really cool moments that have truly blown my mind at how God has totally just been there and been directing it the whole way. What I love with these kids is it's like a journey. We totally get to just be involved throughout the weeks and months. And for some reason they totally open up to us. Such a privilege and an honor to be such a tiny part of their lives and be able to do the little we can, love them and just live in a way that is so open to them seeing Jesus in us and through us. It blows my mind daily that I can do this and call it work. These youth and this town certainly have my heart.

HIGHLIGHTS. Walking home and seeing real live foxes running across the roads. so exciting.    Sunday lunch at the Prankards. Plucking up the courage to introduce myself to people. Going to Crawley for a new YFC centre opening, hearing the dream and the vision of the place and seeing the hope for a future for those youth. Getting the opportunity to chat to one of our drop in boys who doesn't go to school but uses a lot of drugs, and him telling me he really wants to become a leader and use his influence for good and not for bad anymore. Taking the time to actually chat to people and get totally inspired and overwhelmed by their lives and what they have been through. Another goal in football. AMAZING. Too many highlights to list.

I am filled with this mix of missing home and people, but also am so aware that I'm living the dream here in Gillingham. I'm slowly learning to simply trust and be obedient. Such a simple lesson, but sometimes it has to be learnt over and over. Thank goodness Jesus is patient.
Bring on the snow.

the weekend.

It has been a week since moving in with Dave and Laurie, and 4 weeks since leaving New Zealand. Dave works in a young offenders prison as a warden and Laurie is an Occupational Therapist. Such a lovely couple. There have been mornings that a tap on the door is heard, and Laurie comes in wielding a cup of tea or a beautiful card is left outside my door for when I wake. So homely. Such a blessing to be living here.

On Saturday Laurie and I decided to go to Rochester. Twenty five minutes walk from Gillingham waits this little town. It is not only the hometown of Charles Dickins but possibly one of the cutest towns ever. Complete with it's very own castle and old cathedral. It is beautiful, cobbled streets lined with pubs and lovely old shops. On arrival into the town I literally stood in the middle of the street, closed my eyes and breathed in with great joy; so good for the soul. We mooched, had coffee, did a spot of Christmas shopping and gushed over beautiful craft shops. So nice and so normal. And then Santa ran past. And then another one. And another one. Then the largest dog I had ever seen, dressed in a santa costume. So surreal, this beautiful town, with crowds of running santas just shooting past. Definitely good for a giggle. Apparently, the Christmas fun run was on that day. Hilarious.
Then went to a youth event in Maidstone with two that I work with, Keion and Becca. We had an interesting train journey to Maidstone with a conductor that thought he was a comedian and proceeded to do a little show on the train as he was checking our tickets. So hilarious. However, although we had a map for when we arrived and had to make our way to an obscure church, not only did we not know where we were going, but we diverted from the map and had to find our way through the backstreets. Eventually when we found the event, the speaker had cancelled last minute. But of course it ended up being amazing anyway, and God was totally there. People were getting up and sharing what God had put on their heart. And no matter how much I felt the need to share, I just couldn't overcome the fear to do it. Next time. Thank goodness for grace that overcomes our human disappointments.
Sunday, church. For once I was early, such a rare occasion, and I met this interesting old man called Peter. He was telling me stories of when he went to Glastonbury, his life and how four weeks earlier he had been standing at the bus stop, seen the church and decided to come back the next week. It is so amazing how ready people are to share their lives with a stranger. As he left church he said he would look out for me next time, and a cup of tea after the service was in order. I love these intriguing meetings with people. Quality.

As amazing as this weekend has been, Today I am filled with an all around 'messy' and hideous feeling, accompanied by homesickness. You know when you feel you should be doing more than you are, that you can't quite seem to do everything you feel you should, that your faults and weaknesses just get in the way? Well, that feeling has been a large niggle in my mind. I guess this is a growing journey full of grace and mercy. God knows I'm human and I will mess up, freak out and not always be brave enough to step out and do or say what he wants me to in a situation. Thank God for grace. I would love to always  be able to be positive and KNOW truly that I am living the dream yet sometimes I get so frustrated and disheartened with myself. I guess I always knew this wouldn't be the easiest, and growing always is tough. You can't grow, step out, follow Jesus and move countries without there being a few moments where questions do arise and struggles happpen. I think it's just about in these moments knowing that Jesus love never fails, and his promises are so complete. And if all else fails, there is be grace.
OCEANS of it. 
It is definitely a work in progress and it is so overwhelming. But God works through anything and to be used is a privilege. Thank goodness. I am only over here through Gods grace.

I'm slowly building up my English slang vocabulary, as to try and integrate into the culture. I'm sure the kids get fed up with me standing there looking baffled after they have just spoken a sentence, and the only way this can be avoided is to nod and say 'mmm' as if I clearly understand. This only gets awkward when on the odd occasion I get caught out and have to admit that I had no idea from the beginning. I've censored the dictionary of words I have learnt in the last 4 weeks, which has left only a few I can share. oh those kids.
'Well' this word is put in front of ANY feeling 'That is well good'
'innit?' not really a question, more of an add-on at the end of a sentence. 'Isn't it?'
'Reem' good
'Fitten' used to describe a good looking person of the opposite sex
'Fam' an affectionate word for friend
'Gaffas' policeman
'Bruv' Used in the same way that 'bro' is used
Never a dull moment with those kids.
As much as I miss home, the thought of going back fills me with a sense of loss, as if I know that no matter what, Gillingham is where I need to be right now.
Bring on the next week.

here we go.

So this week has been filled with showing off my lack of football skills, drop ins, bible club, a visit to the most beautiful english village I have ever seen, an impromptu visit to Britians largest beer warehouse, a Mexican evening, babysitting, more drop ins, £3 lunches with some amazing ladies, grey weather, late night longboard adventures and moving out of one house and into another. 

Mexican night. Loads of flags decorating the drop in, a pinata, hot chilli's, moustaches and nachos. Although an argument between a few senoritas turned slightly heated and the pinata smacking stick threatened to be turned into a weapon, it was a good night. God keeps bringing new youth in off the street which is so good. All we have to do is be open, make them cups of tea and chat to them. Man, I truly love it. And we are getting to work with some truly amazing, but in need kids. Such a privilege. This is why I am here. 

It's been so surreal this week. Gillingham is such a small town, and generally once the kids live in Gillingham, they will stay here their whole lives. So many times I have been walking down the high street and bump into one of the youth I worked with when I was here last. Or be meeting one of them for lunch and they just bring a few others I haven't seen yet. It has been so good.

I seriously feel like, nothing I say, or no matter how many times I describe things, or gush over how amazing it is, or say how much I know that I am meant to be here, it just doesn't do it justice. I almost want to bring everyone here, to Gillingham, on a field trip and experience it firsthand. The streets, the atmosphere, the people, the high street, the churches, the accents.  I am very glad, yet so overwhelmed, that Jesus uses ordinary people to be trusted with work he wants to do. The youth teach me things everyday. Not only the definitions of rude words, or the interpretation of the weird english slang, but things about life. Truly amazing.

On the odd occasion our drop ins aren't open, we do detached youthwork. This generally involves some kind of football game in Gillingham park or the Skinner street football cage, a load of school kids and, for me it's usually an energetic form of public humiliation. I apologise every time I set foot on the field for the lack of skill, and for what sort of talent the kids are going to witness in the following hour and a half. This is then usually followed by one of the other guys trying to get the kids to believe that I play for the New Zealand national football team; a rumour which is dispelled the second I miss the ball, miss the goal or in the moment I end up on the ground. It is truly hilarious and I like to think this lack of skill makes me more approachable for the young people. Or even just a good laugh. Unsure though. Definitely crossing sports ministry off my life calling list. Although, I did get a goal today. yeah boy. I think half of Gillingham could have heard the celebration that followed. Incredible. 

On another note, I like to think that the love of football is what spurs the population of Gillinghams' love for tracksuits. Matching bottoms and sweatshirts, nike, adidas or puma with possibly even a matching cap. Now this would make sense, if they ran everywhere, or had just been to the gym, or even were getting ready for the lead up to the olympic games. But they're not. It's just the thing to do. And the sports shop here even has a bridal section, just incase you want to wear a white tracksuit on your wedding day. Perfect. Obviously I have put an order in for the future. mm yes.

Downham Market pretty much sounds as quaint as it is. Cobbled streets with houses lining each side and fairy lights strung between them, beautiful english accents and brilliant countryside. Seriously straight out of some sort of calendar. A visit there to see some friends was just the perfect outing for a crisp Sunday. 

As much as I do love this place. and the kids. And can't believe that I can legitimately take youth out for lunch and chats and class it as work. However, I have to admit the weather is rubbish. Just so dreary and grey. Second winter is truly getting me down.

I am craving summer so bad. I need a tan and a swim in the ocean. 

Enjoy it for me.