Trevor and Linda Galpin - Fatherheart Ministries

An evening or two with the author of The Shack

2012-01-11T23:02:00.004+13:00

It had been in my diary for some time that William P Young or Paul as he is known, was going to be speaking at a Church in Taupo this week. Paul is the author of the world best seller The Shack. Something like 17 million copies sold to date.

What I hadn't realized was that he would be coming to dinner at the Eden Centre, where we live, for a couple of evenings. So there we were sitting around the table chatting with the man. What a privilege.

I have read the reviews on the internet. I have read what some very eminent and influential theologians have said about the Shack. I have wondered why some members of the faith community can become so filled with vitriolic and why they love to strain at gnats. But that is not new and sadly blights the Christian church and the way we are perceived by the wider world.

But, I have read The Shack. I read it on a plane flying to the UK from New Zealand a few years ago. It was difficult because I kept getting odd looks from the stewards and one even asked if everything was okay? This was because I kept wiping my eyes. It is a profound and life changing book, not just for me but for millions of people around the world. Millions have discovered that God the Father, who in the parable that is The Shack, is represented by a black American woman who loves to cook, and here is the point, is actually really fond of us. Many find it easier to see God being like Gandalf with a bad attitude than a loving Papa who is extremely fond of us.

Paul Young describes his book as a parable. Various parts represent aspects of Paul's life. So for example the death of Missy in the story represents Paul's stolen or "murdered" childhood. So what does he mean by a parable?

He said that a parable is not a true story but it uses a story to slip by our defenses and brings truth to our battened down and wounded hearts. This is one of the most significant things about The Shack. It is a parable to our age, to each reader, who like Mack in the book struggles to come to terms with our own great sadness.

The Shack itself represents the place on the inside of each of us where we hide all our addictions, sadness, pain and secrets. We hate it. It is a place of devastation for us. When Papa enters our Shack it becomes a place of life, forgiveness, joy, freedom, hope and unconditional acceptance by the One who loves us and has no expectations of us.

It is a book filled with life. It is a book about a loving God who is filled with hope, who really loves all his children. We are all children who need to know that we are loved unconditionally.

Paul said to us, "I don't care who doesn't like The Shack. My son read it and it transformed his life. That's all that matters". That is just one of millions who have been transformed and have entered into a dynamic, authentic relationship with their true Papa as a result.

I'm looking forward to the next book he is working on. In the meantime I'm carrying on having fun with the Three, Father,Son and Holy Spirit.

Pyramids and Papyrus.

2011-12-06T02:04:00.000+13:00

One of the mixed blessings of getting older is that there are fewer things left to do! One of my things was to see the Pyramids. That has been now ticked off the list of things to do before I die. But I have added a caveat to this accomplishment. See them properly next time and not from the roof of a rather persistent local's house who really would rather we had paid a lot more money to him and he could then have taken us into the enclosed area at a special rate.... just for you... very cheap...etc etc. Instead we climbed the steps to the third floor roof and had an amazing view across the roof tops of the rambling suburb that is right up against the tourist zone that is the Pyramids and the guarding Sphinx.

A 16 hours stopover on the way back from Tanzania to the UK meant this whistle stop visit to these ancient tombs of the Pharaohs was possible. We got a taxi from the airport hotel and off we went. Very clear instructions of what we wanted were totally ignored by the driver who preferred to drive through the city centre. Cairo has now topped 25 million people. So the crush of cars, trucks, buses, motorbikes, donkey carts and camels has contributed to traffic chaos, exhaust pollution, dust and noise. Every vehicle driver has one hand on the wheel and the other on the horn. The latter is the most employed device. Where roads had two lanes, four vehicles jostled abreast for space, each trying to get an edge ahead of the one behind. The windows are open just in case there was a need to shriek some expletive in Arabic at the one who wins.

We crossed the Nile. Earlier this year we stood on the banks of the Nile in Uganda at the retreat centre of Mto-Moyoni where we had taught a Fatherheart School in May. This is perhaps 1000 miles or more to the south at the source of the Nile as it flows out of Lake Victoria. Mto-Moyoni means a "river in the heart" and is run by our dear friends Ingrid and Winette. Their desire is that the love of God the Father would flow all through Africa and out into the sea in Egypt. As we looked at the frenetic life on the streets of Cairo I wondered how that would ever become a reality.

Our taxi driver stopped at a authentic "Papyrus Museum". Free admission, very nice, very good, very clean, very cheap... this last one was the clue. I think it belonged to his cousin who wanted to show us how amazing the production of papyrus is etc. It was. It is. And do you know we could have bought a papyrus picture with our names written in hieroglyphics on it etc. We quickly got the idea. The freely proffered tea was a real sweetener, in every sense. The taxi driver had lots of cousins in seems all in the tourist industry, all very willing to help us experience the delights of Cairo, all very clean, all very cheap. At the papyrus shop.. opps I mean museum I was shown an Islamic picture which had the 99 beautiful names of Allah inscribed on it. I asked if one of them was Abba. He said "No, Allah has no relatives and no sons so how can he be Father?" I wondered if they know that "Isa - the second prophet after Mohammed" called him Abba all the time and came to reveal him as Abba. It seemed to me for the river to run through the heart they need to know Abba.

Kilimanjaro revealed.

2011-12-03T03:04:00.004+13:00

All this week we have been working in churches and at a World Vision Conference in the N E of Tanzania. Every place we have been has been on the lower flanks of Africa's highest mountain, Mt Kilimanjaro. I have heard of this mountain all my life and remember watching the old movie called the Snows of Kilimanjaro. I know a lot about this mountain, it is almost 20,000 feet high and is a volcano. It rises above the vast African plains of the Tsavo and Masai heart lands that stretch for hundreds of kilometers in every direction. It has captured the imaginations of countless generations of African tribes who live in its sight. European explorers, settlers and writers have immortalized it in our psyche. It is shrouded with mystery as much as it is wreathed in cloud.

Arriving at the nearest airport, Kilimanjaro International, I strained to see the fabled mountain from the aircraft as we came into land. All there was to see were clouds. Our hosts greeted us and assured us that the mountain was there, we just needed to look up at the right time. Each morning I awoke with expectation of seeing the mountain. We had glimpses of the top one day; snowy crags hanging disembodied above, with swathes of clouds ringing the lower slopes. We heard stories of people who had climbed the mountain and reached the summit. It takes 5 days to get there. The last day climbers rise at 2.00am and reach the summit at dawn. Then they go back down covering in a day what had taken four to get to the top.

Each day the glimpses became more revealing. I began to get and idea of its extraordinary height and I felt its presence. My longing to get a photo and to really see the mountain grew each day. The reason we are in Tanzania is to speak at a conference with the East African leadership of World Vision. Each day we have been sharing about the love of God who is a Father to us and that we are his sons and daughters. We are speaking about the incredible love that the Father has for us and how he longs for us to come home to him and know him loving us right now. We have had glimpses of his love, but so often our view of him is obscured by the clouds of our own brokenhearted and wounded perceptions of Him, our fear of him, our misconception of him, our tendency to hide from him. Like the mountain we are longing for glimpses of his reality, to know him and to experience his love for us.

This morning I woke early and went on to the balcony of the room that we are staying in. I looked up to the north in the direction of the mountain and there it was, completely unveiled, bathed in morning light. My breath stopped momentarily in my mouth. The snow on top gleamed with a compelling invitation. It was calling me to come up, to climb, to embrace the majesty of its awesome power, to experience the mountain. I was overwhelmed as I stood there because I knew that it was not the mountain but it was the Father who was calling me, who was inviting me and longing to embrace me with his love. It was God, my true Father, who was drawing me to rise above my brokenness and wounded ways. In that moment I felt again his love for me. It was as if he was showering me in his liquid love and I felt saturated by his love. I knew in that moment that I am his beloved son and there is nothing I have to do to qualify for his love, he just loves me as I am.

There was a deep resonance in my heart as more healing flowed into me. There was an all pervading sense of peace and an indescribable joy. Tears of joy soaked my face and hands as I watched the morning clouds gather in a protective veil around the mountain. But my heart was soaring high above the mountain as I felt the Father loving me. I know his love is not veiled from us, it is real, tangible and life changing.

Flags and the Rugby World Cup

2011-09-28T09:19:00.000+13:00

New Zealand is hosting the Rugby World Cup at the moment. This means the country is in fever pitch and flags are everywhere. Taupo is hosting three teams the Springboks, S Africa's team for the uninitiated, Wales and Ireland. Having a coffee down by the lake we were joined by several Springbok team players the other day. Not that I knew who they where to be honest, they just showed up and fans were snapping photos of them. We even sat on a plane once with the All Blacks (NZ's fabled team again for the uninitiated.), but it was half through the flight before I realised who they were. However I digress. It's the flags that I have noticed. Everywhere you can see the flags of the various nations being displayed. It has meaning for people. Flags tell you something.

Earlier this year we were in Scandinavia and noticed the flags there too. In Norway at Pentecost, Olav raised a huge Norwegian Flag to celebrate the day. It seemed fitting that the wind of the Spirit was caught symbolically by the flag. Then in Denmark we celebrated our 37th wedding anniversary and Hans and Bodil raised a huge Danish flag up their 14 metre high pole in our honour. That was very touching.

Malta was covered in flags. Each village displaying a flag of its patron saint. They get the prize for the biggest flags, some the size of tennis courts. Amazing greens, reds and blues. It brightened up the uniformly sandstone colour of a hot and dusty island. When we arrived in Northern Island it was the Marching Season when again the flags were everywhere. Red white and blue Union Jacks, Orange Order flags, lodge flags. These flags proudly displayed one section of the communities allegiance to the UK. To the other section it seemed to be a provocation and reminder of deep sectarian differences. Flags mean something. They send a message to those who have eyes to see the meaning.

I've not always seen this before or rather read the message. We have a good friend in Dorset who gets this very clearly. She has made scores of silk, painted banners over the years. She listens to what God is saying to her and paints accordingly. Her banners have gone all over the world now. She believes that by waving them in various locations it sends a message to the unseen spiritual realm. Like all symbols it has meaning. Pauline's banners have made it to New Zealand. A little church in Pauanui displays and regularly proclaims the presence of God's love and fire by waving a silk fire and river flag, symbolic of the fire of the Holy Spirit and the river of the Spirit that flows from the throne of God. I've seen people fall on the floor under the anointing of the power of God when these flags are waved. We gave another of Pauline's banners to a group of intercessors in Uganda. Who knows what power this symbol will impart to their prayers and to that nation.

In a few weeks at the final of the Rugby world cup the Eden Park Stadium in Auckland will be full of flags and banners. This bunch of All Black supporters are all expat Brits including Simon (standing) and our daughter Sanna. My guess is there will be an awful lot of black in the crowd. Go the All Blacks. There I've said it, I'm turning into a Kiwi, a New Zealander for the uninitiated.

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Danish Pastries, Danish bacon, Sweden and of course Abba.

2011-06-27T00:48:00.001+12:00

How different are these two countries and how close!

I was amazed on crossing the ferry from Sweden that in a short 20 minutes we were in Denmark. Helsignor to be precise, or Elsinor as Shakespeare fans would know it. Didn’t meet anyone called Yorrik, which is just as well as I am sure I would have made some dreadful puns. Not even a Gertrude or Ophelia but we did meet some great Danes and shared some great food all of a Danish variety. We even got to celebrate the mid summer festival warming ourselves by bonfires along the beach with crowds of people watching the sun drop into the Kattegat until late into the evening.

The coastal path at Gillilije boasted some memorable spots including one favoured by Soren Kierkegaard who loved to sit and gaze out across the grey sea thinking great and deep thoughts. These mostly eluded me to be honest as I never was much good at philosophy, but we did sit at his bench and like him gaze, think and reflect. “The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen but, if one will, are to be lived.” Nice one Soren!

Then we came across a monument raised by a grateful nation of Israel, to the fishermen of Denmark who smuggled hundreds of Danish Jews to safety in Sweden a few miles across the water in 1943. A sobering moment.

In Sweden we had fun with Abba. At a conference in Boras the translator was Agnetha and the keyboard player was Bjorn but there was no sign of Benny or Anni-Frid. The whole weekend we talked about Abba, not the band but our real Abba who loves us with unfailing love. It is amazing to see lives transformed when they realise that God is not some distant judge with a heavenly ledger weighing us in the scales of his wrath but a loving father who is totally interested in knowing me knowing you, is willing to take a chance on me and says I’ve been waiting for you. He is a real Abba.

To quote Kierkegaard again, "God creates out of nothing. Wonderful you say. Yes, to be sure, but he does what is still more wonderful: he makes saints out of sinners."

Island Hopping in Paul's footsteps, in the Med

2011-06-10T01:37:00.001+12:00

Visiting two Mediterranean islands, both separate countries, in two weeks is a form of island hopping that I hadn't planned on. But on this journey following in our Father's footsteps that is just what we have done. Cyprus and Malta. One in the east off the coast of Turkey and Syria which is Cyprus and the other Malta, smack bang in the middle, 65km off the coast of Sicily and close to Libya. Both islands strategically placed between Europe and the Middle East.

Linda and I have never been to either place before but we had heard about both places. The reason for going to these islands was to lead conferences and teach on the revelation of the Father's love. We discovered that we were also staying in places that the Apostle Paul had visited nearly two thousand years ago. We stayed in Paphos on the western end of Cyprus where Paul had preached and planted a church. According to the legends and tourist books there is a ruined church where there is a stone pillar which reputedly Paul was tied to and whipped at. The fact that the stone was apparently brought to the island in the 3rd Century AD seems to have been overlooked. But it was amazing to be sharing the love of the Father and quoting the writings of Paul in a place where he preached. I was delighted to be able to preach the same message about the amazing love that the Father has for us and echo his prayer that we would know this love that surpasses knowledge and be filled to the full measure of the fullness of God. Knowing this love is experiencing the Father loving us as a reality in the present not just intellectually.

On Malta we discovered that we were back with Paul at the tail end of his life when he was ship wrecked on the Island of Malta. There is a bay called St Paul's Bay where he reputedly came ashore. There are catacombs linked to Christians on Malta and named after Paul. Interestingly both places, Paphos in Cyprus and Mdina in Malta, the chief men of the city where he visited, became Christians.

There is an ancient Christian heritage in these Island. In spite of this the contemporary churches in the islands have not had much of an encounter with Father's love in the way that we have seen this spreading around the world. So it was a wonderful privilege to be able to minister this to groups of hungry people longing for an encounter with God as their Father.

We are enjoying following in the footsteps of our Father, going where he goes and surprisingly like many tourists and pilgrims have enjoyed following in the steps of St Paul in the bargain.

The Snows of Kilimanjaro...well, almost.

2011-05-23T21:42:00.004+12:00

Africa continues to fascinate and challenge me. Three weeks, three East African countries, all so different. We were in Uganda for the first week at Jinja overlooking the river Nile teaching an Fatherheart A School. Then a week later we were in Tanzania to teach another Fatherheart school about the love of the Father. In between was an overland road trip across Kenya that took 5 days. Five of us in a Landrover. Ingrid, Winette, Mark and us two. The Swahili word for a journey is safari!! Well our safari took in the Kenyan Highlands where they grow tea; we stood astride the Equator; the urban sprawl of chaotic Nairobi; the vast plains of the Great African Rift Valley, Masai land and the legendary Masai Mara, then on into Tanzania.

We encountered one of the worst roads I have ever driven on in my life. The five of us bounced along and around huge pot holes along the main tourist road to the game parks. There were real zebra crossings which helped to ease the pain of the drive but we ended up taking much longer and drove the last 3 hours in the dark on dirt roads to get to the tented camp on the edge of the Mara. It was worth it in the end but at the time it was pretty hairy.

The day in the Masai Mara game reserve was fantastic. lion, buffalo, giraffe, hyena, jackals, hippos etc etc. Can't describe it. the birds were incredible. The next day we drove on via Nairobi where we got held up in a Kenyan traffic jam of epic proportions that beggars belief. Every man for himself, lorries trying to cut across the central reservation getting stuck in the mud and even one turning over. Cars driving the wrong way back up the road. Total chaos. Next day we were heading towards the Tanzanian border, when we hit a road blocked by Masai tribesmen armed with guns and spears, protesting that bandits had come in the night, killed a watch man and stolen their cattle. It was very threatening so we withdrew and waited 24 hours while it was sorted out. Next day we caught a glimpse of the snows on the top of Kilimanjaro and eventually got to Lake Manyara where the next Fatherheart School was to be held.

The Schools were very good. Our African friends said things like, "This is the only hope for Africa." "This is what I have been looking for all my life." "My life is now turned the right way up." Linda taught on the nurturing heart of God, reflecting the mother like aspects of God's love for us. Mark taught on weakness as the key to knowing the power that the sons of God have. Winette shared on forgiving from the heart and Ingrid explained the way we behave like orphans when we do not know God as Father. We covered all the core topics of the Fatherheart School and had an amazing time.

I have a little of Africa in my blood from when I was a boy in Swaziland so long ago. It is very humbling to see how God has this door open to us.

We know we will be going back. The safari we are on with our Father has only just begun!

Southern Comfort

2011-04-02T10:06:00.000+13:00

I have struggled over the years to grow wisteria. Several attempts have failed and other times we have moved on before we could enjoy the lush blossom of this climbing vine as they take up to seven years to produce their first blooms. This year we have been in the "Deep South" of the US for several weeks and have delighted in so many southern comforts of which wisteria is but one. Time and again we were confronted on the journey by strands of trees that had been colonised by climbing wisteria. In some cases the vines reached up over thirty or forty feet. The cascades of deep violet blossoms seemed to hang like curtains in the treetops draping the sprouting new green leaves in soft pendulous swags.

There is such beauty in the South. The Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia and the soft hills of the Piedmont North Carolina that stretched out before us when we woke up one morning gladdened the heart. Bird life abounds from the ubiquitous black vultures to the majestic soaring of the bald eagle. Alligators in the Okefenokee swamp added excitement and a brief sighting of a ground hog, added amusement as on this occasion we did not see another and get a re run of the day.

Southern hospitality was added into the mix which ranged from hush puppies and chitterlings from Pearl's Country Kitchen, which challenged the taste buds and the cholesterol levels in the blood, to the most luscious BBQ ribs I have ever eaten in a friends home in Jacksonville. We had crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, grits and biscuits in one home in Georgia. So southern, so comforting, so good, just like the people we met. We shared food, stories, experiences, struggles, hopes and dreams. We talked of God our true Father, the father of compassion and the God of all comfort who comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received. (2 Cor 1:4). All of us shared our struggles and hardships along the journey but we continually sat back amazed at how the Father had sustained us and held us up on the way. Some might say that this is just a psychological crutch. Oh yes and so much better than the comforts and crutches that the world offers! Having received his comfort I never need anything else.

Sadly not a drop of the liquid variety of Southern Comfort passed my lips on this occasion.

C. Baxter Kruger, C.S.Lewis and the Shack revisted

2011-02-13T21:34:00.000+13:00

A good friend in Australia sent me a gift by email that has enriched our last weekend for a while in New Zealand immeasurably. We are off on a jaunt shortly that will take us to numerous places and connections with many great friends in the Fatherheart Family around the world. You can see where we are in our comings and goings on the side of this blog if you are interested.

Anyway back to the gift. It is a yet to be published, latest offering, from C Baxter Kruger. If you have read any of my previous blogs you will know that I am more than a little impressed with this writer. He is a theologian....stay with me it's worth it....his writings make my heart sing and shout for joy. They are the best. So now he is writing again and this time he is exploring William P Young's theology in his world best seller "The Shack".

Those of you who loved The Shack will stay with me, I'll come to it on a moment, but I know there are those who have had their reservations about this book. Some seem to overlook it is a novel, rather in the genre of "Pilgrim's Progress", than a theological treatise. It is not a book on theology but like anything we say about God, it speaks in theological terms and expresses individual views about God. In Young's case this was also born out of a long journey seeking to find answers to some of life's biggest questions. Kruger explores this in the early part of the book and gives insight into the story behind the book and inside The Shack.

Some of the things that have been said about the book seems to suggest that its most vehement critics may not have read the book. One high profile critic posted a video on You Tube that challenged the approach of describing the Trinity taken by Young that uses metaphor, story and picture language. It amused and saddened me that the image on the wall behind the critic was an interlinking of three circles that has been used innumerable times to pictorially represent the Trinity. Seemed he may have missed the point somewhat.

However I digress. Baxter is offering here so much more than a critique of The Shack. He explores in his usual breathtaking, heart stopping way the richness of classic Christian Trinitarian doctrine. He draws deeply from the early church Fathers and especially Athenasius. He brings the greatest Christian writer of the 20th Century, (sorry about the hyperbole, but it's my blog) C.S.Lewis, into the discussion and melds thought and imagery, concept and truth together in such a rich way.

I'm deeply challenged in my ministry to be as theologically accurate and true to the biblical revelation as possible. At the same time I recognise we live in a post Christian world of the 21st Century that needs desperately to discover God as Father, Son and Spirit in a way that conceptually engages with our world. Nothing has changed in that regard since before the dawn of time when God the Father conceived in his heart and to have a relationship with us as his sons and daughters. It was not plan B or an afterthought that sent his Son into the world, full of his Holy Spirit, to bring us home. It has always been his plan and intention, Father, Son and Spirit, eternally relating, in what Kruger describes as a great dance, so that those who believe through faith in his Son can be united with them for all eternity.

C Baxter Kruger, C.S.Lewis, William P Young, I have so enjoyed your company this weekend. If anyone wants a copy let me know.

And Jim in Oz, you are a star. Thanks mate!

Back to Finland and into next year.

2010-12-03T01:41:00.003+13:00

The year is almost over and my best intentions to write a blog, fall painfully short. I last wrote when we were in Finland and here we are again back in Finland this time in a winter landscape with snow and temperatures in the minus 10 - 15 range.

We are very happy to be back in Finland as we have many friends here and loads of opportunity to bring the message of the Father's love. This weekend we will be in Valamo at an Orthodox monastery speaking at a conference to mostly Lutherans and Orthodox monks and nuns. It's quite a privilege to be invited.

The year has been full of adventure, great blessing, hilarious joy and moments of unexpected challenge. The skin cancer scare in August and the six weeks of treatment went well and Trevor is hoping to get a good report from the Doctor in the New Year. He is also going into hospital to get his hernia stitched up in January which will be a great relief.

One of the high points for us has been the wedding of our son Nick to Rhiannon in October, on the 10th of the 10th 2010, 10.10.10 = X X X Aaah. It was a great day and was extra special for us to have Sanna over from NZ and Chrissie over from Australia for their brother's wedding. It was the first time we have all been together for quite some time.

The coming year looks very much like last year, lots of travel, which we enjoy, with doors opening in a number of situations that will be new for us. We make time for seeing a little of each place we go to so it is not all work. We do realise that we visit more place in a year than some people are able to do in a lifetime and we do not take this for granted. We are hugely aware that we are only able to do this with the help of many friends who support us, encourage us, provide us with comfortable beds (73 different ones so far this year), feed us wonderful food (our girths are increasing!), invite us to minister in a whole variety of situations, let us use their washing machines, log in online and so it goes on. This is a real partnership. The down side is not being quite sure where home is, and what our bedroom used to look like. Everything is stacked away in store in Taupo.

Well that's all for now. I'll try and do better next year and write a little more frequently.

Smoking in Finland

2010-06-27T17:26:00.003+12:00

I have come to the conclusion that Finns have a great affinity with smoke. I suppose it must be to do with the vast amount of wood that there is in the country with over two thirds of the land covered by forests. They are beautiful forests too with a mixture of various pines, larches and the ubiquitous silver birch. Along with the forests and scattered liberally across the landscape, are more than 100,000 lakes. The land is not high but is undulating, sloping to the southwest where the lakes become inlets of the Baltic sea and the forest covered hills become peninsulas and islands that drift into the Gulf of Bothnia. The archipelago around Turku is made up of hundreds and hundreds of rocky islets each with a summer cottage.

We have been privileged to stay at Soili and Matti's summer cottage in the hinterland on one of the many lakes and in a few weeks we will have a couple of nights in a summer cottage in the islands off Turku. Along with this is the wonderful Finnish hospitality which features a lot of smoke. It began last week in Rantasalmi where we were participating in a week long Fatherheart School. The centre we stayed in is famous for its smoke sauna. Sauna is something of a national institution in Finland. Everyone seems to have one in their home. We even had a short boat trip around the lake at Savonlinna and the boat had one too. Why any one would want to have a sauna on a small pleasure boat that sails on hourly trips around the lake beats me. I can imagine all these people jumping in the lake after the sauna only to find the boat steaming away into the distance.

Sauna is taken very seriously in Finland. There is a ritual element to the whole process. The extremes of temperature in the sauna and the total contrast of jumping naked into a freezing lake seems to have in some way shaped the Finnish psyche. Persuading visitors to participate in these rituals amounts to a national pastime. At Rantasalmi they boasted one of the finest smoke saunas in the land. The hut used is very old and blackened inside and out. The fire takes about 6 hours to build the temperatures to a scorching 90c. When finally it is ready the hut is entered and the participants sit in a dark attic like area amid the gloom. It is supposed to be the ultimate sauna experience. Well it was certainly memorable. Mercifully we were spared the bunch of birch sticks that often accompany the event and are used for stimulating the circulation, which is Finnish code for beating your visitors black and blue!!

Following the smoke sauna the evening progressed to the smoke hut. This was a round hut with a wood fire in the centre and a central roof hole to let the smoke out. We all crammed into this hut, fully clothed by this time, enjoyed the rest of the evening eating sausages and pancakes cooked over the fire, and listening to Finnish folk songs. We emerged around midnight, it was still daylight, we smelt like a bonfire and our eyes smarted from the smoke. There seemed to be as much smoke wafting around outside the hut as there was inside but this smoke didn't drift it was full of evil intention. I'm not getting melodramatic here but the clouds of dark swirling malevolence turned out to be multitudes of mosquitoes searching for their supper. Their targets were exposed flesh. I was so glad the mandatory lake plunge after the sauna was over as it could have been an assault on my senses of a totally different type.

The other aspect of smoke and the Finns that I really appreciate was what they do to salmon with smoke. Oh it was wonderful! At our friend's summer cottage by a stunning lake surrounded by forests, we feasted on smoked salmon of various types. There was the usual raw smoked salmon for breakfast with scrambled egg but there was also the most delicious whole, wood smoked, salmon that had been done the day before perfectly accompanied by a creamy horseradish sauce, new potatoes and salad. What a feast!

One last sauna, no smoke this time, followed by an icy plunge, which was actually very invigorating and it was time to go back to Norway.

Out of Africa

2010-05-05T05:48:00.000+12:00

Well that is a fairly predictable title for this post as we are now out of Africa and back in the UK after having been there for four weeks.

We had two and a half weeks in Uganda and ten days on Kenya. This was Linda's debut to Africa so each experience was new and surprizing. Africa is challenging at every level. It is a riot of colour, rich in earthy tones and hues of green. After rain it is awash with mud and when the sun comes out, within hours it is chokingly dusty. We got stuck in the mud at times and walked to a church in a slum in Nairobi and got so covered in mud that on arrival we had our feet washed which took us to a whole new level of being humbled by people's kindness. The dust filled our lungs and added to the cocktail of bronchitis and in Linda's case a growing association with asthma.

Africa is challenging in that everything takes extra effort. Getting into bed at night inside mosquito nets requires a lot more thought and planning. As soon as I got into the net I realised I needed this, that or the other. Then the power was on, then off, then on again, the internet was down half the time, slower than dial up and so on. However everyone had cell phones, everyone, everywhere. We stood in one church in a muddy village, muddy walls, muddy floors, muddy children. On the wall a single muddy notice read, "Turn off your cell phone during the services."

Ugandans have faced an horrific past within my life time. No one was untouched by the Idi Amin or Obote years, hundreds of thousands died, every family was affected. In recent years thousands of children had been abducted by the Lord's Resistance Army in the north and turned into child soldiers. One fourteen year old boy we had contact with was taken when he was aged 8. Each of the 80 scars on his arms represented a person he had killed, the first two being his parents. I have immense admiration for the many NGO's working with these deeply traumatised children who daily emerge from the bush seeking their former homes.

Teaching a week on the Love of God the Father was deeply moving. The people on the School all said that this was the only hope for Africa. It was a priviledge to be able to connect with these people.

Africa is a place of great contradictions. We met some of the kindest, open hearted people and at the same time visited a children's rehab centre which was worse than a dickensian work house. The plight of the abandoned children aged between 3 and 17 was appalling. I must confess I struggled all day chocking back my tears as I saw children, the same age as my grandchildren, malnurished, barely clothed, covered in scabies, abandoned by their parents or relatives. One lad had been blinded by acid by his grandmother in order to make him a more effective beggar.

The Ugandans and Kenyans on the Fatherheart Schools were outstanding people whose love for God and for their countries was exemplary. They are working so hard to bring change and hope to the lives of their countrymen. Time and time again they said, "The love of the Father is the only hope for Africa." I looked into their eyes and I could see hope, I could see passion and resolve and utter dependance on God for his help. There is hope for Africa and soon something will come out of Africa through these people that will bring hope to the whole world.

American Pie

2010-03-28T18:00:00.000+13:00

For the last month we have been enjoying a huge slice of American pie. Two days in Oceanside close to San Diego, a week near Nashville, Tennessee, two weeks in Virginia and a week in North Carolina. What a joy it has been! So much good ol' southern hospitality, so much genuine warmth and so much fun. We have explored Civil War battlefields; Colonial Williamsburg and Jamestown, the first place settled in 1607. We have seen the USS Reagan in San Diego harbour, the worlds biggest aircraft carrier; been to CBN, the huge centre of Pat Robinson's Christian Broadcasting Network; walked in snow in Tennessee; shopped for designer shirts in a thrift store (what bargains I found); watched woodpeckers in the Smokey Mountains near Pigeon Forge. The list goes on and on.

We have met many people who are passionate about their country. It has been such a joy to stay in homes of people who have just poured out their hearts in caring and affection. We love the America we have visited and the people we have met. America is a country that in many ways is hard to comprehend. So many contradictions and surprises. I think in the world perhaps Americans are some of the most misunderstood of peoples. It is only when you sit at their tables, drinking ice tea, sampling grits and cherry pie (not on the same plate) that we can begin to know them. Their world is sometimes very small with many living all their lives within just a few miles from where they were born. Some have barely been out of their State let alone their country. They struggle to grasp why so many in the world resent American activity worldwide. Also their country is so big. It staggers me how far flung the nation is.

Americans can also be surprisingly ignorant about the rest of the world. In one restaurant our server, working hard for his hoped for tip of 15 - 20%, when discovering we came from New Zealand, asked us what language we spoke there. I think he thought our accent was due to our lack of familiarity with English. Another lady just starred at me with her mouth open as I spoke, stunned by my diction. The she said "I didn't un'erstand a word of that honey, but it sounded real nice." I was asked if New Zealand had roads!

The people we have been with are politically conservative and very worried about their President. There is a lot of fear expressed about change and the state of the world generally. The recession is hitting very hard in the south. They seem to feel that the world is a very unsafe place. Yet for all that they are full of faith and optimism about what God is doing in the world today. They see his hand in everything, more so than most other nationalities we meet. They look to him to meet their daily needs and are unashamed of being Christians in today's world. Every restaurant we ate in, groups paused to pray and give thank to God for their food, holding hands like the Waltons around the table.

We have worshipped and preached in a number of churches, a white middle class church, a black southern church, a sophisticated Californian church, and a wild revivalist church. Each one was real and vibrant and full of generous and warm hearted people. We have had so much fun.

Of course after a month I am now an expert on American culture, so am able to make these observations. No doubt some will disagree. But I am happy to have been here, looking forward to coming back and grateful for so much of this land, not to mention their amazing ability to make fabulous cherry pie.

On Cliff Richard and The Shadows not being shadows of their former selves.

2010-02-25T14:54:00.001+13:00

Last night Linda and I went to a concert. This was a gift from Sanna and Simon for Christmas and for Linda's birthday. The concert was Cliff Richard and the Shadows Reunited. It was at the Vecta Arena in Auckland. What a fun night it was! The arena was packed with probably every baby boomer in New Zealand. It started at 8.00pm which may have been a little late for some but there we all were, "the young ones" or at least people who pretended they were still young, ladies dressed up like their daughters, men with tight T shirts that were meant to enhance bulging muscles instead of bulging tummies, lots of excited chatter and laughter. We sat high up the tiers and I wondered why Stanner Stairlifts had not been fitted as some struggled with stiff joints to get to their seats. Surprisingly no obvious joints in evidence which of course would not have been the case in the heyday of the Shadows in the 1960s.

When the panlike Cliff boyishly burst upon the stage there were cheers and high pitched whistles which were probably mostly hearing aids being adjusted to cope with the increased volume. The aging audiance clapped and cheered, swayed rhythmically in their seats being far too polite and restrained to stand up and jive in case they blocked someone's view. The singing along was thoaty and heart felt, most of us knowing the words to the songs.

The interval was long enough to allow everyone a toilet break, much needed for our generation with the men typically taking much longer than the ladies these days. If you are under 50 reading this you won't know what I mean by that, but older than 50 and you are probably nodding and sighing thinking about those frisky days of long ago. I think that someone could have made a fortune if they had Milo or Horlicks on the beverages list in the hallways.

The second half was exhausting for the boys on stage. Cliff crooned and hollered and it was wonderful. Some daring grandmothers stood and swayed in a nostaligic way while slightly embarrased husbands looked away pretending not to have noticed. Hard core supporters and fans in the front row broke through and rushed to the front when Summer Holiday was performed well, about a dozen did but it wasn't much of a mosh pit more like a WI meeting really. A handful more rocked and rolled behind the sound desk, out of sight. When he sang Living Doll just about everyone joined in almost like in the old days when they played the national anthem in the cinema.

They got a standing ovation at the end which gave everyone a chance to stretch their legs and comment about the hard seats but it had been a wonderful night. Full of fond memories and gentle humour.

Cliff has been a Christian since 1966. I was there at a Billy Graham Crusade in Earls Court London when he came out then. I'm grateful for his consistent witness ever since and inspite of persistent rumours he has not come out in any other way. I pray for him to know great grace and favour and to remain steadfast in this and for the courage to continue in his faith and love for God in an industry that is not kind to Christians like him. Well that is the "spiritual bit" for this blog entry.

We needed lots of grace after the concert when we discovered our car had been towed and we had become victims of a parking scam. It spoilt the end of a great evening but never mind life has many twists and turns.

Thoughts on having a Kruger Fest and Troikas.

2010-02-10T07:05:00.001+13:00

Well actually I am devouring the writings of C Baxter Kruger. It was quite by accident (yeah right!) that I stumbled across his books. Over a year ago a friend actually gave me several of his books on a memory stick to download, which I did and there they sat awaiting the moment when I would open them.

During the next 14 months I continued to grow in my understanding of God as my Father and experienced him loving me just for who I am. For years I had thought he would love me if I worked hard at being a good Christian servant etc. etc. At the very deepest level of my being I was not sure that he loved me just as I was/am. My view of God was very much driven by the sense that he was a stickler for good behaviour, even though I taught and believed in God's grace reaching out to us. I guess I saw grace as a necessity because I was such dirty rotten scoundrel. This Holy God could not tolerate me in my brokeness and insecurity. Thankfully he extended grace to me.....but I was not sure he really liked me.

Well anyway, the wonderful realisation has dawned on me that he really is my true Father and I am his beloved son. He loves me and actually likes me too, in all my brokeness and insecurity. I think rather than this dawning on me, I have actually stopped fretting and just started enjoying being his son. This is so cool. It is such a relief because being a good Christian and trying to impress God with my piety (occasionally), my service (constantly), my devotion (lukewarm), my prayer (intermittently), my desire for intimacy with him (increasingly), was such hard work. It was exhausting. Occasionaly I had those moments of sheer joy when I knew that I had briefly touched something transcendently amazing, but they were fleeting.

Thankfully all through this my Father has been gently edging me into a place of security and trust. This has been such a relief. In the midst of all this I have been meeting people all over the world who share this passion and have the same Father as I do.

A couple of weekends ago Linda and I went to Masterton down at the bottom of the North Island of NZ, to meet some other Fatherheart people to hear what they have been up to and are learning. We stayed with Joan and Michael. Joan is passionate for the Father and for reality. We had a great weekend Joan and Linda spent hours trying on hats and frocks in a classy shop in Greytown, while Michael and I sat in the shade outside a pavement cafe and waited patiently. Later that day Joan suddenly asked me if I had read any of Baxter Kruger's work. Well the rest is history. I sat up half the night reading. It was a moment of turning. Yet another twist on the journey. I am thrilled, challenged and overjoyed for the first time in a very long time with reading theology. His work is magnificent. The point is that the last 14 months now have a richer context. What I had been enjoying and experiencing on a personal level found a deeper fuller expression in Baxter Kruger's profound and stimulating work. It is as if the Spirit had been ploughing my heart, the beloved Son has been sowing seeds for many years which Kruger was now watering. The warmth of the Father's love is producing growth and joy.

I'm riding a Trinitarian troika and having a ball with Baxter.

Thoughts arising from an affogato.

2010-01-22T21:39:00.000+13:00

For some time I have fancied myself as an expert on the delights of affogatos, well, affogati to be technically correct. An affogato is delightful Italian beverage made by taking a scoop of very rich, preferably homemade, vanilla ice cream placing it in a white coffee cup and then slowly pouring a perfectly prepared espresso, with a creamy froth, all over the ice cream. The Italian word affogato literally means drowned. The end result is a delectable taste experience that personally gives me a huge amount of pleasure.

Here in Taupo a cafe has opened up called Kaffee Eis that features, along with a very good selection of antipodean coffee offerings such as flat whites, short blacks and long blacks, classic Italian drinks such as cappuccino and of course affogato. The added bonus is the ice cream counter which specialises in a selection of really good homemade ice cream. Well the combination has proved a winner. They do a roaring trade not least from the Galpins when we are in Taupo. We have been disciplined about it and only go on Friday afternoons to the cafe. Our little treat at the end of the week. We go through the ritual of selecting our ice cream and being a purist I always go for vanilla. Linda however has more cosmopolitan tastes and will go for panna cotta, straciattela or when needs demand it, chocolate.

We are evangelistic about it. Many friends here have been wooed into the pleasurable experience.

Travelling as we do with Fatherheart Ministries means that our visits to Kaffee Eis and savouring its pleasures are now not so frequent. However I have managed to include a reference to my enjoyment of affogati in a teaching that I have been developing on the happiness of God. I have been excited to see what the Bible says brings pleasure to him beginning with his joy in creation and the heart warming declaration that his creation is good and mankind the crown of his creation as very good; the Father's pleasure in his beloved Son and in particular how he cannot keep silent when Jesus begins his ministry; how at this baptism the Father declares him to be his beloved son. Then again on the mountain of transfiguration, the Father, revealing the glory of his Son again describes him as his beloved Son in whom he delights Matt 17:5. Finally the astonishing realisation that God our Father also delights in us as his sons and daughters and that he lavishes his love upon us. This clearly brings him great pleasure and joy. It is amazing that Jesus says in Jn 17:26 "the love with which you have loved me may be in them and I in them.”

I can hardly imagine enjoying something that is most enjoyable with unbounded energy and passion forever!

This is not our experience in this world because nothing has a personal worth great enough to meet our deepest longings. Also we lack the strength and capacity to enjoy the best things to the maximum basically we get bored! And of course all our joys here come to an end, - nothing lasts. I realised this afresh today because it is Friday, we are in Taupo, and Kaffee Eis is calling. With great anticipation we went to our pleasure palace of affogato delights. We waited in line, placed our order and watched to our horror as the ice cream was put in a tacky plastic cup, the coffee lacked its distinctive froth and was far too runny. In fact it more than drowned the ice cream, it turned it into a runny coffee milk shake. All my anticipation dissipated in a few moments. My pleasure was so fleeting and misplaced. We sat by the lake. Mused about the brevity of sensual and human pleasure. Then reflected on the Father's pleasure.

All this changes when the Father’s pleasure in his Son becomes our pleasure too. Jesus 'personal worth is inexhaustible to meet our deepest longings. He never ceases to delight in us and fill us with the same joy that he had. Thankfully he will never become boring, disappointing or frustrating and our ability to enjoy him will not be limited by our human weakness and frailty. The real joy is the knowledge that this will never end because neither Father nor Son will ever end. The Father’s delight in his Son will be in us and it will be ours. As a result our pleasure and love being in them will never end.

The Father had such incredible open hearted intimacy with his Son. All this overflows onto us too who through Jesus have become the sons and daughters of God. No angel has received such honour and affection as the Son has received and shares with us. This is the glorious inheritance that we share as joint heirs with Jesus. It is no wonder that our Father is such a happy Father, this is his glory, this is real pleasure.

As for an affogato....I'm over it. Well, mostly.

Christmas down under....well in New Zealand.

2009-12-17T18:50:00.000+13:00

It never ceases to amaze me that Christmas in the southern hemisphere is so northern.

Walking through a shopping mall in Auckland is an odd experience if you have lived most of your life in the north. The shops look like European/British ones, carols and Christmas songs play, Santa and vague references to Jesus being born are everywhere. People seem to be dreaming of a white Christmas but would be very shocked if it happened here in New Zealand.

More astonishing was a recent visit to a Mega Mall in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, a Muslim country where the Christmas shopping bonanza was even more pronounced, with the tanoy music being much louder and more overtly Christian. To hear the strains of "Hail the heaven born Prince of Peace" being belted out, as burka clad ladies and Saudi shoppers all in black, poured over Gucci shoes and Chanel perfume, was very unusual. Charles Wesley would have been amazed. A Muslim friend didn't seem at all concerned by the Christian emphasis.

I find the commercialism of it all somewhat tedious, especially as however hard I try not to give in to it, I find myself joining the queues to get presents wrapped at the "Free Gift Wrapping" stands. I asked the girl who was Wrapping for Charity if she was a volunteer. She said "No way, I get paid, this is far too much like hard work."

At least Santa in his Grotto looked traditional and made the children cry. My grandson was too scared to go near him. My granddaughter said it wasn't the real Santa because he was not wearing glasses. At Bayfair, in Tauranga, which is by the beach, Santa has a Beach Batch (a NZ beach cottage) rather than a grotto, wears swimming shorts and balances on a surf board.

I hope a some point we will get a chance to rejoice again over the Father's gift of his own dear Son, whom he gave to the world because he loved us all so much; that it is all about the Father who wants his lost and orphaned children to come back home and be in his family, with or without the snow.

The Joys of being upgraded

2009-12-09T20:49:00.000+13:00

I don't know why I was surprised when we got up-graded but it was twice in one day. We pitched up at Changi Airport in Singapore to catch our 8 hours flight to Brisbane and lo and behold we were upgraded to business class. Thank you Father, what it is to have an influential Father who likes to surprise his children! We got access to the business class lounge with amazing food to keep us going as well where the staff just were so keen to help and serve us. We got on the plane and tried not to look like a couple of kids trying out all the buttons and gadgets like the massage buttons on the seat. I could get used to this.

Then we arrived at Brisbane and go to collect the cheapest car on the rental stand and lo and behold we were up graded to a very classy Holden Cruse with leather seats etc etc. How cool is that.

I suppose we should be learning through this that our Father delights in us being delighted by these little treats. At the end of a long and very fulfilling 3 month trip away from New Zealand this is a welcome reminder of his love and care for us.

Today we have been just enjoying seeing the grandchildren delight in the gifts and treats we had for them. That's probably how He was yesterday when we were so tickled by out treats.

2009-12-04T14:07:00.000+13:00

The Malaysians have a particular like of abbreviation in the names of places. Today we are in KL going to JB via PJ and so on. It works fine mostly but why some and not others? Doesn't matter really. It makes you sound like a know all if you say "Oh we spent the week in KL and are going to JB for the weekend." Anyway we have spent a week in Kuala Lumpur which has been fun. We have met and made friends with a number of the locals, Nick Wu and Martin Duke, both pastors of local churches in PJ (Handy to be able to abbreviate this one because I am not sure how you spell the P bit, I think it is Petaling Jaya).

The shopping here is world class according to Linda. KL or is PJ boasts S E Asia's biggest shopping Mall. It is huge. I left Linda doing a bit of shopping while I went off the the movies for 3 hours to watch 2012. This is the latest Hollywood version of the end of the world etc. It never ceases to amaze how easy it is to wipe out 6 billion people and still leave a mild feel good factor at the end. Very strange really. It is interesting how certain iconic landmarks get the computer graphic doom treatment. St Peter's and the Sistine Chapel this time and a whole bunch of Cardinals in a 10 second clip. If you like this genre of movie it ranks as spectacular, if you like something a little more thought provoking then this is probably not the one for you.

Tonight we are at Trinity Baptist Church doing a weekend Conference with Ben and Becky Ho in JB - Johor Bahru, then after the weekend on Tuesday we head back south to Queensland and the little family there (C & J, N & L) Then after a few days it's home to NZ and a couple of days with S & S, LDK. Well TTFN (LOL) etc etc

End of the European part of the trip.

2009-11-25T06:44:00.000+13:00

In two days we fly off to Malaysia after an amazing time in Europe (this should include the UK if I'm going to be a good European!).

However, for the last two weeks we have been on mainland Europe. Holland, Germany and Belgium. The Fatherheart Conference in Hanover was really good. There is so much happening in Germany. A whole network of churches and individuals working together to bring the revelation of the Father's love to the country. They are writing books and exploring the theological implications of this revelation on our understanding of the Bible. A former Jesuit priest has even produced a new translation of the NT called Welcome Home. After all why call it the Bible! Worth finding out more about this. Lots of new friends as a result.

Then there was Holland, special times with Dave and Yvonne Carroll and also Koos and Georgine Hartnack at their church in Kampen. This was followed by a Fatherheart A School in Helvoirt. 70+ students and a really good team. Lots of people had significant breakthroughs in their experience of God as their Father. Wednesday morning started with an amazing release of freedom and joy and a really great dance that just about everyone joined in. Got it on video so I will see if I can work out how to post it. Worshipping to the theme tune of Mission Impossible was certainly a novelty.

Finally a really fun day in preaching in Lueven Belgium with Hugo and Team at their church. Then it was back to the UK and under the channel as we decided the sea was just too rough, the wind too strong and the thought of bouncing around in a tub just too much. Good choice as it turned out Dover was closed for a while.

Recovering now and getting ready for the next chapter.