Thursday, 13 September 2007

Perspectives

It’s all a matter of perspective. Perspective can make small things look colossal, the distant seem nearby, and the costly appear joyful.

The journey so far has been one of completely adjusted perspective.

After a tedious wait at Heathrow airport for Lufthansa flight 4739 to get underway (They found a nail in one of the tyres and thought it best to replace it. I would have thought to have left it; worst the could happen is that we arrive in style with sparks down the runway!) I was aboard and in my seat at the window. It was a remarkably clear night with not a cloud in the sky over all of the UK even at 20,000 feet. Behind me, to the west, could be seen a strip of red separating a now black area of sky and the land below, and an area of pale blue sky above. The sun had set on my time in the UK and all that could be seen was a brilliant strip of light just before it winked off the horizon. As we climbed I could see London’s geography drawn out for me by thousands of lights and houses. At first one could see just a section of the M25 with cars whizzing around it, soon to be followed by a view across the whole of the great city of London that stretched to my (then) horizon. Looking closely I could even make out some of the buildings of Croydon, though that might have been wishful thinking. Gradually this exploding mass of orange-lit connections became smaller and vast areas of dark containing islands of orange light were at the forefront. I couldn’t help but be nostalgic for the city that has been my homeland and in my blood since birth, but also grateful to God that I should get to say farewell looking her in the eyes. And before long that city that had so stretched to the end of the world from my window was but a blip in the distance. London was gone. As I said, it’s all about perspective.

As we crossed over the south east I wondered at which of the many places I knew the island below was. With London gone it was comforting to see other places I have been to and known until we were off into the sea and heading for Belgium. Faintly the shape of the England stood out from the sea, and though there is so much of it I have yet to explore, it still felt as though it belonged to me as home. Some of the places we passed over I probably would have deliberately avoided or would certainly have rejected as an option for home, but then I would have gladly taken any of those places with me. Again, it’s perspective.

I turned from the window and paused to reflect perhaps for the first time what it meant to leave everything I have called “home”. Having been in Austria and Germany the week before on holiday I could have happily said I would love to remain there, but home is something you never appreciate until you have left it. After years of its familiar comforts and routines you may yearn for times away and for new adventures to be had, but it’s generally done with the knowledge that home is always ready to receive you whenever you want to return. It’s almost like having both – the comfort of keeping your home as your home, but also gaining some new place as a bonus. But when you leave everything called “home” for somewhere else it’s a very different story – a very different perspective.

After a long and largely unspectacular journey (there were a few close calls which were promptly remedied) I arrived at Durban International airport to find Gary Welsh waiting to take me to what would be my new home. From the car I could see there would be a lot to learn, but that must wait for a while. Arriving at Gary and Nicky’s house in Westville, Durban, it was time to sit down and have a beer. I was introduced to their new dog, Lloyd, who’s a lovely but very shy character, and I sat overlooking the back garden and the slightly murky swimming pool (Yes, I do have a swimming pool available to me!). Gary apologised for the remnants of algae that were still present, and I informed him that whatever the condition of his pool it was nonetheless a pool and that was amazing! Drew Land, the leader of Hope Church Durban, and Themba Hlomuka, one of the other leaders, came over to say hi. While I’d met them both before it was nice to catch up a little more and have some company after “single serving friends” over 22 hours of travelling.

Once they had left I sat in the garden again and looked out. I had no idea where anything was (largely still don’t), I had no one I knew around me, and certainly no proper friends anywhere in reach. Though I was in a nice house, on a warm (shorts and t-shirt warm) winter’s day, in an amazing country just waiting to be discovered, I felt as though I might as well be stranded on a desert island. As the poem, “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink”, so it was, “People, people everywhere, but not a friend to see”, and more than that I’d be lost the moment I stepped out of the front door! While I seemed to have unlimited opportunities at my finger tips, without a single reference point all were beyond my reach and my comprehension. You’ve guessed it – it’s perspective.

But as I end my first 24 hours in Durban I’m quickly adapting, understanding, exploring, connecting, etc. Like a newborn baby I’m learning fast and just need to get on with it, feeling out the world around me through sight, taste, and sound. I’ve also found that, when the internet is working at least, that none of you are as far away as it may seem and indeed you would have been 20 years ago. It’s a great comfort to write to you all, but also to have heard from many of you already. Even though I may receive bad news, it’s still a comfort to participate in your lives. Are you near or far away? Both – it’s a matter of perspective.

One last perspective. Where is “home” anyway? Yes, it may be that, “Home is where the heart is”, but for me home is with Christ. On one glorious day to come I shall be fully home which is no less than being fully with Him. For now I have a temporary home in this earthly life, in which Christ also dwells (Jn 14:23, Gal 2:20). My “home” in this earth is but a temporary place within a temporary place, and yet I do truly miss it. How strange is our perspective that we long so little for our real home? Paul says it well in 2 Corinthians 5:6ff

We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away we make it our aim to please Him.

And in v. 1ff

For we know that if the tent, which is our earthly home, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling… not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.

In all, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Php 1:21), and so “For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him” (Php 3:8f).

That is my final perspective.


Please pray
· That I adapt quickly and thoroughly to culture, surroundings, and living alone (The Welsh’s are like my next door neighbours).
· That my focus remains on the ultimate perspective.
· That I find many friends who will not only keep my company but inspire my faith.
· That I can get a good car that will serve me well for less than R40,000, and soon!

God bless you all in knowing Christ above all else!

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