Daddy! Daddy! I Want...Give Me...

On July 3rd, 1997 I boarded a Boeing 747 at Sydney Airport, Australia, which took off around five-thirty in the evening, bound for Los Angeles, California.  After flying across the vast Pacific Ocean, featuring a splendid view of Hawaii basking in the morning sunshine, the 'plane landed safely at around one o'clock in the afternoon on the 3rd of July.

Yes, I can say that I have literally went back in time, landing in Los Angeles before I took off from Sydney, despite being suspended more than thirty thousand feet up in the air for the better part of thirteen and a half hours. But that is one of the strange anomalies of long-haul travel, as the airline was literally travelling faster than the rotation of the Earth on its axis, the crossing of the International Date Line meant I had to re-live the whole of the 3rd of July instead of landing at Los Angeles on the 4th as a result of flying through the night. This make travel so exciting! This, along with looking up at the Australian starry night and seeing the Southern Cross Constellation right above my head, or the brilliant display of stars seen from the bottom of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. Not to mention the abundance of tropical vegetation - Mangrove trees in particular, growing out of the sea at high tide, a phenomenon totally unknown around the UK, Europe or the Mediterranean.

A Mangrove tree at Arlie Beach, Queensland, 1997.

Travel became something of an obsession, I think, since I first believed in Jesus Christ as Saviour. It was due to the fact that I started reading the Bible, and the Old Testament in particular said a great deal about the nation of Israel with its capital city, Jerusalem. So in 1976, after touring Italy for the last three years as a solo backpacker, I flew out to Israel to see the city the Bible had spoken so much about, together with a stay in Tiberias, on the lake of Galilee, that part of the world so familiar with Jesus Christ and his disciples. Gosh, how I wanted to see Jesus at the time, while walking on territory he once walked on. As a twenty-three year old, I was quite naive and not realised that not only was he already with me, but also lived in me, and in a sense, was guiding me along where he had been before his crucifixion. After visiting Israel in 1976, my desire to see the rest of the world, particularly California, began to increase, a lot of this to do with big screen and television movies.

God allowed me to fulfil my travel dreams, simply because he is my Father, as Jesus taught us to regard him. As my knowledge of the Bible began to accumulate, my curiosity over the city of Jerusalem began to grow, and I wanted so much to be there to see for myself. I can't remember if I specifically asked whether I can go, but even as such an immature Christian back then, God knew my heart and he had opened the door. Apparently, for one to backpack the Middle East was so unusual back in the mid-seventies, that after I returned, it became quite a sensation at my place of work, a precision engineering factory which employed around two hundred people, both in the offices and shop-floor.

One of the Scriptures I have become familiar with is found in Matthew 7:7-11, where Jesus instructs his followers that God is willing to give good things to those that ask him. Good things? In my younger days, to me good things meant travel, and loads of money to do this. As a single person, good things also meant meeting a girl of my dreams, marry and raise a family. However, a fast car was not on the agenda, as I have proved myself not to have taken to the steering wheel. But reading what Jesus was comparing here, he was saying that although our hearts are evil, as fathers we are keen to give good gifts to our children when they ask for them.

Perhaps life was very different during Jesus' day. Did children really ask their dads for bread, fish or an egg? According to Jesus and his followers, these seemed to have been the normal things to ask for, as these were the only goods that existed in a primitive agricultural world. Yet in our modern day, I don't ever record asking my parents for food such as meat and vegetables. Neither have I ever seen or heard about any children ask for bread or a fish. Sweets (candy) - yes, and often given as a reward for being good or obedient. As for toys, I have seen more than one child scream as he or she was pulled away by Mum from a toy shop at the shopping mall, but I have yet to see a child scream if he or she is pulled away from a grocery store. Also it can be hard work trying to persuade children to eat their Brussels sprouts, or greens in general. Rather than ask for these items, they are often the last  taken from the plate, if they leave the plate at all. And that despite that vegetables have a lot of nutritional goodness in them.

And that's the point. When I was young, if someone had placed a portion of boiled cabbage and a bar of chocolate in front of me, then told to choose which to eat, I would have chosen the chocolate, even if there was much more protein in the cabbage. Would I have chosen the chocolate because I was rebellious? Not at all. I would have chosen it simply because I was a child, and the taste of chocolate is far more enjoyable than the taste of the vegetable. Because of this, I would have regarded the chocolate as an undeserved treat, while eating the cabbage was more of an act of duty. A lesson may be learned here with a plate of biscuits (cookies). When my Mum had a packet of chocolate biscuits and some plain wheat ones too, what she did was to wrap the plain ones in silver foil, and present them in the same dish as the chocolate ones. The ruse always worked. The ones in the foil stood out as special, and taking one of those represented a special treat, and I felt the need to eat it despite the anticlimax.

And as a young Christian, even as an adult, I regarded the goodness of God in a very similar way. How come? Because in Matthew's version, Jesus says that the Father will give good things to those who asks him, while in Luke's version (11:9-13) he says that the father gives the Holy Spirit to those who asks him! Therefore as a young Christian, I found Matthew's version a whole lot more appealing. With it, I did ask the Father if I could travel around the world. I did ask the Father if I would ever cross the International Date Line sometime in my life. I did ask the Father if I would be married one day. I also asked the Father if I could qualify for a desk job in an office - not because this was always my aspiration, but because I would be better loved, respected and accepted by other people, particularly in my church. But asking for the Holy Spirit? Not quite so appealing, despite that he was the best I could have asked for.

According to my experience, there seems to be a parallel between growing up physically and growing up spiritually. In I Corinthians 3, Hebrews 5:13 and 1 Peter 2:2, the apostles wrote about babes in Christ, who were engaging in quarrelling and envying instead of bathing in the grace of God. And these Christians were adults, yet they were spiritual children. It seems to me that it's natural for the new believer to pass through a stage of spiritual childhood, and yet we have a Heavenly Father who understands this. There is absolutely nothing wrong in desiring things we see around us or what other people have gotten or have achieved. Travel was, and still is, my passion and God has granted me the ability to have travelled the world, and enough money to finance it. God has also granted that I would have a wife, a partner for life. But he did not grant me to have a cosy desk job at an office, neither did he allow me to fulfil my childhood ambition to become a medical doctor or journalist. Back in 1980, when I was out of a job, I wanted so much to climb out of my working class status and become middle class. If only I could land an office job, I would have bridged the divide.

At my old church, the person's worth was evaluated by level of education and professional occupation. And one who came out of university was held in higher regard and greater respect than the one who didn't. The graduate found it easier to make friends, was wooed by the girls and even the Elders gave the graduate greater responsibilities as house group leaders and teachers of Junior Church, and so on. As a result of all this, there were times that my personal relationship with God was under some strain, and even thought, erroneously, that God loved some people more than others and I was near the bottom of the pile. World travel became the antidote against this line of thinking.

It is as I grew older both physically and spiritually that I began to realise that Luke's version of what Jesus taught was far superior. Whether these two sayings were slightly different variations of the same speech delivered or whether he spoke on the same theme at different times and places, really that does not matter. For Jesus to say that the Holy Spirit is available just by the asking is the greatest demonstration of grace God can bestow upon a person. Furthermore, it is an unqualified statement, it does not respect the recipient's level of education or social status. As with travel, this always ends with a bout of "post holiday blues" - a deep feeling of melancholy as I walked into an empty, silent but oh-so-familiar apartment after so many nights spent at a lively, bustling hostel socialising and making friends in the far corner of the globe, with the distance from work and daily responsibilities to match. But asking for the Holy Spirit to flood my soul with himself is actually a lot more fulfilling, not only because the gift is eternal, but particularly when I go through a difficult patch wondering how long my window cleaning business will last, the growing threat of rivalry due to superior sales patter, better equipment which demands hundreds, if not thousands of pounds investment, and an estate of ageing clientele leaving me very unsure about the future.

I have found that trusting in God and asking for the Holy Spirit to fill me on a daily basis has not only helped along in facing an uncertain future, but on the positive scale, has given me patience in dealing with difficult clients, to be gentle and accommodating when others poses levels of difficulty. And I give credit to the power of God in my life, a Saviour who is fully capable in renewing a sinner's heart. A long backpacking holiday, or even a sabbatical, may be an exciting idea but also a return ticket is included in the package. Not so with the seal and guarantee of eternal life. No return ticket there! Realising that asking the Father for the Holy Spirit is equivalent to a child choosing the cabbage instead of the chocolate, to walk into a clothes shop on a cold day instead of the toy shop, or for that matter, if a choice between a pretty picture postcard or a £20 note was presented, the child choosing the money above the postcard, despite that the card is far more prettier.

I believe that God's wish is to bless us. I don't believe that God is reluctant to bestow material blessings, which includes the opportunity to travel. After all, wasn't Abraham rich? And so was Job? And one of the richest men who had ever lived was King Solomon. Never mind that he erred in later life. Solomon was bestowed with a supernatural wisdom which could have only come from the Spirit of God, and was particularly loved by God at his birth.

King Solomon's splendour. 

God has blessed me richly with a wife and a nice home, two computers, a photo library of travel experiences, and niceties which enhances the pleasantness of being at home. But the best gift God has given me is salvation and having not just having the Holy Spirit dwell in me, but all of the Trinity - Father, Son and Holy Spirit taking delight in making me their home.

David and the Giant - Worry.

You have been out for the evening and you are now walking back home alone late one Friday night. Your route passes through a narrow alleyway, which cuts the walk short by several hundred metres. Then about halfway through the alley, a gang of youths, about four or five of them in all, enter the alley where you are due to exit. They were high on alcohol, one of them picks up a stone and throws it at a semi-derelict window, cracking the glass, while laughing and guffawing at their misdeed.

You feel your heart beat faster to force oxygenated blood into every muscles of your body, your skin crawl and your hair as if standing on end. Your breathing becomes heavy, and within the bloodstream, extra platelets are produced in readiness of a possible wound, within the blood coagulates faster, saving on blood loss. And sitting on top of each kidney, your Adrenal gland pumps an endorphin, Adrenaline, which alert you to either fight or take flight.

Even if you run, they get exactly what they wanted and start chasing you, nevertheless you run, and run fast! Because you know that by confronting them, you would have been the loser, ending up in hospital with a smashed face or as with these days, a stab wound, possibly fatal. This little drama is the result of fright, a magnificent mechanism in ensuring self preservation. This reaction to an emergency is caused by a rush of adrenaline into the bloodstream, a direct result of the warning message passed to the brain from the eyes and ears. Afterwards, the spent endorphin will then be disposed of by the kidneys after the threat is past. I guess it is of no coincidence that the Adrenal glands happen to be located sitting on the kidneys themselves.

The Kidneys and Adrenal Glands

The same when a domestic cat is confronted by a dog. The cat arches its back, hisses, its heart races to pump adrenaline-rich blood to all the muscles in its body and the cat flees, usually up a tree or over a nearby wall. Fright had taken its course again.

Fright reaction is caused by a massive injection of adrenaline into the bloodstream, and it is for self-preservation in the face of a potential, life-threatening situation. But fear is something very different. Another term for fear is worry, and I think that there is no real difference between the two words, except that fear is to do with a potential physical uncertainty, while worry has more to do with uncertainty of the future.

For example, if you are fearful, then you will look down the alleyway and hesitate to take the short cut, and despite that all is still and quiet, you decide to avoid it, and take the longer but more safer route. During that moment, adrenaline is pumping into your bloodstream, even if there was no cause for concern. In fact the fear could quite well continue, even once you're safe in bed. It's just the thought of what could have happened that keeps the fear alive, and doing so, the Adrenal glands continue to pump the endorphin into the bloodstream, and if prolonged, can cause lasting harm to your health.

Worry is related to fear, and it means uncertainty of the future. One of the biggest causes of worry is money. Do we have sufficient funds to pay our creditors? In my younger days, before Direct Debit, anxiety over the quarterly power bill always preceded the arrival of the bill itself. Back then I had no real idea of the total the bill will display at the bottom of the column. The worry was, would the figure be so high that I didn't have enough to meet it? I had ideas of facing a Court hearing, possibly a jail term - such stirring of imagination caused by an uncertainty had a detrimental power over my health, particularly to one who was a natural-born worrier. Thank goodness for the arrival of the Direct Debit system. This arrangement in regular payments had lifted a very heavy burden of worry.

Payment of bills was one cause of worry, another was in preparation for travel. If you check my profile, or click on to one of my previous articles, Vagabond! (8th May, 2011), you will see that I have traveled a good part of the world. But it was the weeks leading up to the day of take-off. Would I fall ill? Would I be faced with a sudden, unexpected expense? And this was the big one - would there be a strike grounding the airplane? A threat of a strike had always been a worry when preparing to travel. When I flew to New York in 1978, take-off was right in the midst of the French Traffic Control dispute. That meant all flights to the Continent were delayed or postponed. While I was boarding the Transatlantic flight, right on time as well, a group of people at the next gate were told to return to the lounge. Their flight to Spain postponed yet again after a night stay at the departure lounge. A young man, about my age, rolled on the floor in hysterics, his screams of frustration echoed the length of the corridor. That scared me. No wonder that, just a year later, in 1979, the Labour Prime Minister Jim Callaghan was soundly defeated by Tory Margaret Thatcher in that year's General Election.

It is unfortunate that 33 years later I still have areas of worry. And here I want to be honest and avoid the idea of portraying myself as a "super-saint". As a committed Christian and a self-employed window cleaner, a loss of a client brings fears of the future. As with bill payments back in the 1970s and 80's, I try to imagine what it would be like being without a job, leading to homelessness with my wife Alex and I begging off the streets. Or to move across to the other side of the country just to engage in a dead-end job I wouldn't enjoy, or to have a cruel boss who takes delight in condescending upon and feeding on my personal weaknesses. And with many of my present clientele aging and drawing their pensions, along with a large proportion of the younger generation believing that we window cleaners are a waste of time and money, indeed there is much ground for worry and fear for the future.

Walking hand-in-hand with fear is anger, mainly at unfairness of life. Last week I lost a client who informed me that he now has his own ladders, and now prefers to clean his own windows.
"After all," he concludes, "during this economic crisis I must save on my expenses as much as possible."

Then only yesterday I read in the Daily Mail an excellent article by columnist Max Hastings, titled Looters in Suits. In it, he tells of our personal and economic hardship was primarily caused by the ferocious greed and incompetence of the City bankers. Starting with the collapse of the Lehman Brothers in New York during 2008, their greed caused our banks in the City of London to the brink of collapse, had it not been the bailout rescue from the tax-payer. Then after that the bankers continue to reap incredible high incomes and bonuses despite the rest of us tightening our own belts to stay out of debt. Little wonder I get angry at times!

Worry, fear and anger. The three most powerful emotions that are detrimental to our health. I have a book written by Dr. McMillen. Although the updated publication was in 1980, it is very much up to date as the first copyright in 1963. Dr. McMillen wrote that many physical illnesses, such as vomiting, diarrhea, asthma, diabetes, arthritis, along with bleeding ulcers, kidney disease, heart attacks, high blood pressure, backache, tiredness, fatigue, colitis, strokes, goiter, arteriosclerosis (a hardening of the arteries) and many other ailments are caused by these and other similar emotions.

Yet it was Jesus Christ who, during his ministry, gave a straightforward piece of advice. He said:

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds in the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labour or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his glory was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

So do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:25-34.

This Scripture, when mixed with faith, can be the David who defeated the giant Goliath. No doubt, when Jesus was teaching this, he did not have just our spiritual well-being. He was thinking of both our emotional and physical health as well. What he was actually doing was providing the key to happiness guaranteed to keep the doctor away if this advice was perfectly followed. This can only be done through the Holy Spirit dwelling in us.

Instead, to most people, this piece of Scripture is as far away from reality as it can get. The question here is trusting God, or faith in him. It can be very difficult to have faith in that which is invisible and intangible.

Yet these verses apply to everything I have mentioned above. Trusting in Jesus Christ and his goodness. Should this deliver me from worry and anxiety, fear of the future? It should do!

Let me go back to the things I have mentioned. Starting with bill payments - the fact is, since I flew the nest in 1976, then aged 23, I have never known to miss a bill payment. In 1980 I went through a period, just over a year in duration, when I had no job and hardly any money. I existed on a low benefit, which I had to sign for every week. One day I called at a house of a fellow church member for something, and I saw their table spread with such succulent dishes, that my eyes for a moment was transfixed. Then I walked home to my meager supplies, literally weeping tears. But then, I never went hungry. God knew what my needs were even then. Then a red-letter phone final reminder bill arrived, and I spread it on the kitchen worktop and prayed over it. Soon afterwards an anonymous envelope dropped through the door, containing enough to pay the bill. This happened a couple of times.

It was then I started my window cleaning business and became self-employed, signing myself off the benefit payroll. I have been working for more than thirty years and I have never felt in need. So if I lose a customer from time to time, I should not panic. After all, if God had taken care of me for all this time, why should he dump me in it now?

But sometimes he does. Job in the Old Testament, a very wealthy but a good man, lost everything including his health and just barely clung to life. Yet his faith in his God actually confounded the arguments of his three closest friends who tried to blame him and his sins for his losses and sorrowful state. Yet his faith triumphed. How would I react?

In travel, so far I had never been delayed by an industrial dispute. And I started traveling as early as 1972, when as still a teenager, flew to Spain with a college mate (and we are still close friends to this day). The only delay I suffered was in 1993, when a fault in the 'plane's hydraulic system delayed us for six hours at Gatwick.

Sydney, Australia - one of many places visited as a "vagabond".

Trusting in an invisible intangible God is often very difficult. He doesn't talk back audibly like a friend does. That is why prayer is essential. I have found that nothing is a better tonic than when faced with a crisis, is to bow the head in prayer, spilling out my fears and anxieties to my Heavenly Father and asking for the filling of the Holy Spirit.

But alongside prayer, we have the church. Church is not the building with a spire, it's the people in it. It is said that Jesus Christ had two bodies after his Resurrection. He took one with him to Heaven, leaving the other behind. And it wasn't on a whim or by forgetfulness! His body was left behind for a purpose.

Worry is a debilitating emotion. When a Christian finds it difficult to handle it, the members of the church are there to encourage and build up faith. At last week's loss of a client, I attended a prayer meeting that same evening. I shared my plight with one of the elders who happens to be a very good friend, and one whose spiritual life I look up to. The outward situation didn't change but I felt an inner strength to handle it better.

My encouragement to all Christian believers is to be involved with your church. The church is a group of fellow believers in Jesus. As such, it is the visible, tangible body of Christ with whom God can speak to you audibly. And together we can defeat the giant.

Tender Mercy and Goodness of God - a Testimony

William Shakespeare is famed for his writings of theatre plays, for example, Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice and many others. This is a fact which is accepted by the vast majority of the population. But on one BBC television programme, The One Show, a general discussion forum where diverse topics are covered in every region of the UK, the presenters focused on the opinion of several academics who deny that Shakespeare was the writer of these plays. They even attempted the use archaeology within the writer's home town of Stratford-Upon-Avon to add proof that their opinions were correct.

William Shakespeare

Personally, I didn't buy any of those academic opinions. The reason is rather straightforward. William's father, John Shakespeare, was a glove maker. In other words, what we would call a factory worker today, working class, blue-collar. How could his son have developed such a literacy talent?

According to these academics, he couldn't have done. Plays such as Macbeth, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Winters Tale and Romeo and Juliet were, to them, all written by some other person whose parents were a lot more cleverer. And a few very unconvincing bits of relics were found in the archaeological pits to substantiate the opinion of the skeptical academics.

On a somewhat different story but based on the same principle, according to a Daily Mail newspaper report, two female contestants on the University Challenge BBC2 quiz were mocked and severely criticized by mostly male viewers using the Facebook page on the Internet. Having not watched the programme myself, I cannot tell whether the two academic women were on the same team or whether they were even on the same programme. But that is not the point. Rather the point being that they were both harassed on the Internet for being snobby, intelligent and too full of self-confidence, according to their critics. Reflections of inferior complex or lack of self-esteem?

But to be fair, the Reader's Comments which appeared under the main article mostly defended the harassed females. Only a small minority upheld the critic's messages posted online, and they were red-arrowed with disapproval.

And then, looking back, I also recall the murder of Stephen Lawrence one evening at a South London suburb. Lawrence was black, and going by his images, he had that look of intelligence and promising of a good education. The images proved correct. He was studying to be an architect. Then, while waiting for a bus at a stop on the evening of 22nd April 1993, five white English men first threw verbal abuse, then they crossed the road to stab him to death. A clearly racist murder. Personally, I'm not fully convinced that colour alone was the one and only motive. Rather, the victim oozed high intelligence, and the five white men having sensed this all felt their self confidence were under threat. Really, there was no real difference between this case and those of the two females on University Challenge where motives were concerned, the only difference was that one case led to a serious crime, the other two were not considered to be criminal victims.

My own belief that the secondary reason for the Stephen Lawrence murder might have been motivated by a sense of inferior complex, seem to be endorsed by the case of one of the killers, Gary Dobson, who was jailed for five years in July 2010 for drug dealing. The other four, I think, were either jobless or held manual occupations, a good indication of low level of education or low academic abilities. So the very thought of a well educated black man was anathema to them.

But where is the connection between this information and the title of this article? Well, I hope to demonstrate how good and merciful God has been to me over the years, despite the prejudices I had to go through, and to show that what God has done for me he can do for you, if only you will diligently search and ask for his wisdom.

The pinnacle of God's mercy: The Crucifixion

If you read my Blogger profile, you will see that I don't give my nature of occupation. That is because I am a Domestic Window Cleaner, who goes about dressed in casuals, as my profile pic indicates, and not of an elderly gentleman dressed in a suit, wears glasses and sport thinning hair! Among those who know me well, they may think, So what? You love writing, keep up the good work. And yes, I have actually received such encouragement! This shows the value of true friendship.

But others may think: A window Cleaner? How can such a person know anything, let alone writing these articles? Unreasonable? Not what I know of.

And my answer: I allowed the Lord Jesus Christ to work in my life.

Here I begin by stating that at school I received the annual report which stated, Frank tries hard; Standard below average. This was an indication that my poor performance at the classroom desk was not my fault, therefore the report I handed personally to my parents did not merit any form of punishment.

And that applied to every subject, including the subject of General Science, with which at the end of the 2nd academic year, I've literally received 100/100 marks on the exam papers and became the talk of the school.

But I remained in the slowest learning class, in which I was constantly teased by one annoying pupil who was one grade above me: Who is in the dunce's class for science?

After leaving school in 1968 with no qualifications to show, my working life has always been manual. Nothing wrong with that in itself, but I feel that it's a crying shame that here in England, the general mentality is that if one had failed at school, nobody expects or even desires for him to work himself upwards. A manual worker not only stays a manual worker (again, nothing wrong in that) but any thought of self-improvement of his mental capabilities seem to be frowned upon. Could this be because it poses a threat?

Here are a couple of classic examples. The first example being back in 1992, the elders of Ascot Baptist Church, where I attend to this day, gave me an opportunity to give a talk on what Heaven might be like, based on the description found in Revelation chapters 21 and 22. Now at the front row sat Keith, a "devout Englishman" who always condescended on my Italian origins. His sense of national superiority was not unique. I have came across this sort of thing many, many times - among my clientele and fellow church members alike.

After the talk was over and as such, the service as well, Keith went around literally bragging that he had not heard a single thing I was saying at the front. Instead, he said he was deliberately diverting his thoughts away by indulging in some other subject, most likely in his case, football and particularly England's hopes in the next World Cup contest.

The second example took place in 1997 and it was in a very much the same environment, giving a talk about my travels, and bringing up the idea on why in California in particular, there seem to be an obsession with alien life from other planets. Toys, ornaments and inflatable models and balloons of these life forms were on sale just at about every second shop along the street. I then theorised that there might be a connection between this obsession with alien life forms and end-times Biblical prophecy. The issue here was not whether I was right in this matter or not, but rather one man in the congregation, also with the name Frank, suddenly standing up and declared aloud for all to hear, that he too had seen these model life forms on sale where he was, and my description of them was spot on. He then declared that my possible interpretation was worth thinking about.

Afterwards, I asked him why he stood up and made such a public announcement.
He replied that during the talk, he overheard a couple of people sitting behind him mutter words to the effect,
What does he know about the Bible or prophecy? He's just a window cleaner!

And oh yes, I have just remembered another incident which took place in 1989, which I think is worth recording here. It concerned something which occurred at Bracknell Baptist Church. What the incident itself was, I can't recall, but one of the elders asked me to write a report on it, because of my involvement.

When I presented my written work to him, he plainly asked me who wrote it. It took some convincing that I was the author. Meaning: The standard of the written document was above my standing for me to be the author.

God's mercy. In 1 Corinthians 1:18-31 Paul the Apostle specifically states that God chooses the foolish in this world to confound the wise. On similar lines, James instructs not to pay higher honour to the rich man on the expense of the poor man dressed in rags (James 2).

I became a true believer early in 1973. I am convinced that there has been a change in my I.Q. at this turning point in my life. I was immediately interested in the Bible and what it had to say on everything.

I went to a Christian bookshop next to St. Paul's Cathedral in London to stock up books which will help me understand the Bible better. But in the Bible itself, particularly in the Old Testament, I noticed that God was referring to Jerusalem more than any other city in the ancient world. I also noticed that Jerusalem was the place Jesus Christ was crucified, then he rose again near the city, and the first Church began in Jerusalem. I also noticed that this same city played a major role in future prophecy, namely, that Christ is to reign from there in the future.

So in 1976 I decided to visit the place for myself, to see it first hand. I went as a sole backpacker. The details are recorded in one of my former blogs, Jerusalem, City of Peace which was published here on Sunday 13th February, 2011.

Visiting Israel in 1976 was a wonderful experience which added strength to my faith. Then in October 1992, a friend and I had a massive row one weekday morning while I was at his home. The worst thing about it was that I knew that I was in the wrong. So I started window cleaning at a nearby street feeling very dejected. It was at this low point when I had what could be called a vision. I was to go to Jerusalem to pray for the city.

But was this from God? First, the vision came suddenly, quite unexpectingly. Then up to this time I always made enough to live on reasonably well, but I was never able to save up for a proper holiday. From that very week onwards, I found myself saving up quite steadily, allowing me the ability to pay for the entire holiday plus all the other expenses without any difficulty. Then I took off from Gatwick Airport early August, 1993.

What I found amazing was that it should have been my friend who should have received the vision, not me. He was in the right, I was in the wrong. But while I was in Jerusalem, I felt God speaking to me about why the Islamic Dome of the Rock stood where the Temple once was. Alongside this, I watched the crowd of Jewish people celebrate the start of their Sabbath. It was such a thrilling experience. I just felt the pulsating presence of God in the enclosure, which fronts the Western Wall. These Jews were God's ancient people. Their presence in Jerusalem showed me how faithful God was to his people. And if God was so faithful to the Jews, how much more will he be to us? Also I found myself sharing my faith in Jesus at the hostel I was staying at, after being asked by one backpacker why I was in Israel. By the time I had finished talking, I found myself the centre of attention among the other backpackers.

Damascus Gate, Jerusalem

Reading the Bible and books to help me understand the Bible also not only helped in my faith, but by reading both books and the newspaper, I slowly learned how other authors composed their articles, so when it comes to writing myself, I can use some of their techniques. But on top of this, I felt that God himself was teaching things direct to me without human intercession. That means I had answers in my thoughts concerning things I was asking especially in the book of the prophet Daniel, which contains visions the prophet had about the bigger picture of God's revelation to mankind.

This was because for a long time I had a desire to know what is the bigger picture was about. In other words, how did it all begin, why we are here, how would it all end, and why will it end in the way the Bible says. And why does Jerusalem play such a large role, and my visits to this city made such a massive impact on my life, especially on the spiritual.

But on the day-to-day practical side, when things are up, I can thank and praise God for. But when thing become trying, God is there I can trust, and run to. I have suffered some trying moments in my life, and a close friend of mine, who already knew much of what I went through, exclaimed,
I am surprised you have not committed suicide! I would have done!

He got distracted before I could explain that I know of the sovereignity of God in my life and with a degree of peace in my heart, I can ride over all things. God is not only my Saviour, he is my Rock, my Strength and Shelter.
Although this has not happen so far in my life, but it could: Suppose I was to lose everything I had, would I still trust in him? Would I still be thanking him for eternal life and for all the goodness, I have received from him? I hope I will be able, then again, it would not be of my own effort, but the infilling of the Holy Spirit in my life.

And this is the key to everything. I'm writing here to all true believers in Christ who is reading this. Be filled with the Holy Spirit and let the love of Christ flow in you richly.
May God bless you richly.

Vagabond!

Sitting at the cafeteria at Coral Reef Water World, close to my home, I was at a state of half-slumber after a gym workout and sauna session. Then I suddenly perked up, as if someone had tapped me on the back of the head.
In sauntered one off-duty staff member, who made his way to the buffet to queue up with the other customers for some refreshments.
This bodybuilder actually worked in the kitchen of the very buffet he was waiting at. In a few years he could have a superb, Truly-Ripped physique, if he steers his weight training gym workouts in the right direction alongside a proper, high protein diet.
My emotion started to rise. As I put out my hand to reach his, he took it, and I held it tightly. After a short conversation, all I could say was,
I've been to Santa Monica as well.
For instead of the characteristic blue uniform which distinguishes every Coral Reef staff from the public, he sauntered in wearing a black tee shirt with the lettering blazing across his chest:
SANTA MONICA.

Santa Monica

Why the emotion? Because seeing his tee shirt image brought back memories of this Californian resort which is actually a district of Los Angeles.
There were questions I would have wanted to ask this guy. Did he go as a backpacker? If so, did he stay at the superb H.I. Santa Monica Backpackers Hostel on 2nd Street, close to the famous pier? The same place where I stayed in 1995 and 1997? Did he stroll though 3rd Street Parade, a traffic-free avenue with bushes trimmed to look like Dinosaurs proudly showing off to the crowds? And did he wander through the excellent indoor shopping mall with a wide choice of attractive eateries? And did he stroll to the end of the pier to watch the sunset while the gulls encircle the air above, and then occasionally perch on one of the safety barrier posts, along with a pelican on another? How I would have loved to hear his stories.
But the more I got to know this fellow, the less convinced that he had ever set foot on the Californian coastline. As many of these working men, as opposed to gap-year students, he would have much preferred to fly out for a break in such places as Iberia with a group of mates to what really amount to a glorified boozing session. And the tee-shirt? Either somebody else brought it back as a present, or it was bought at a fashion boutique in the West End or even at a nearby town of Reading.
And that's what seem to be the experience I have seen of Britons traveling overseas. In groups. And booze, plenty of it. I'm not talking about escorted tours here. Rather, I'm referring to an informal group of mates flying out to have a good time. In a group, each feels safe in the company of others. Whether someone falls ill, or drank too much and is sick on the sidewalk, or has picked up a bug from the hotel pool, or suffered a bout of diarrhea, or for that matter had his wallet or bank cards pick-pocketed, in a group there is that assuring feeling that with such support, a crisis overseas is minimal and one can ride it much better in company.
It is very different to what I call travel.
When I say travel, I mean TRAVEL!
One term I came across while browsing an American website, was the word vagabond. It simply means to travel aimlessly, without too much planning, or even no planning at all. It describes a lone backpacker. A lone backpacker is vulnerable to anything that goes amiss. There is no support from others. Just a piece of paper called an insurance policy making him believe that he has peace of mind.
If you click on this page, December 2010, one of my articles, on being single, describes some of my experiences as a "vagabond", along with a later article, Jerusalem which detail some extraordinary experiences as a lone backpacker in the Middle East.
But this sort of travel does carry risks which are not felt so badly by those who travel in a group, whether escorted or informal. These are my experiences:
1976 - Catching a bug while in Israel. I was down with a fever for three days in bed at a home of an Arab family who offered hospitality.
1981 - Having all my travelers cheques pick-pocketed while standing in a packed train on route to Florence from Pisa. When I arrived at Florence, I came across this pensione, a hotel with shared, dormitory-style bedrooms. There was a bed available and I took it. Later that day I noticed all my money gone, and it could not have happened on the worse moment, Friday evening, after all the banks closed for the weekend. So instead of "living it up" in this artistic city, I spent more than an hour feeling very foolish at a police waiting room to register the loss, a necessity before I would be eligible for a refund from the bank.

Florence, Italy

When I told the hotel proprietor of my plight, she was kind enough to give me a panettino for prima colazione, at a hotel which don't normally serve breakfast to its guests, and she gave me a few lire to buy something to eat during the day. Such was a weekend which I had absolutely nothing to live on until the Monday, when I had the bank refund, after which together with the hotel tariff, I had to pay for the bread and repay the loan. Was I pleased to board the train for Viareggio, a random stop on the west coast of Italy.
1995 - I would think that booking a hostel in New York City would have been easy-peasy. After all, it was September, the kids were back at school, the students had returned home. So after being told over the phone that there were no places left, after arriving in New York, I went from one hostel to another, until I came across this seedy hotel on 8th Avenue and West 52nd Street. I had already knew of this hotel, I had spent a night there soon after landing at J.F.K. Airport that evening in 1978, after a good search around.
As before, I looked out across the avenue at a deli, closed for the night, as I was unable to sleep at one in the morning. Outside, a group of young Afro-Caribbeans were having a brawl, their loud voices carried through the street. In my room, the floor was populated with cockroaches scurrying across and under the bed.
Yet I was happy. Another adventure as a vagabond was about to begin, including sleeping at the Huckleberry Hostel in the suburb of St Louis, Missouri, where there were dead 'roaches in the food pigeonholes and a live mouse scurrying across the kitchen. And yet I made friends with someone who gave me a spare Greyhound map of the USA.
It was that same hostel which had toilet cubicles fronted by those Old West Saloon double swing doors. So the embarrassment I felt answering a call of nature and risking having other people looking straight in!!! Door-less loo cubicles I also came across in the San Diego area. Maybe the discomfort I felt in using them shows that I'm very British after all.
And the year 2000. That's when Alex, my wife and I decided to celebrate our first wedding anniversary by doing perhaps the last backpacking holiday in Israel. She was 18 weeks pregnant with our first daughter Rosina when we touched down at Lod Airport. Two days later, we began to make a bus journey from Tiberias to Haifa, then on to our hotel in Ishfya, some miles away on top of the Mt Carmel ridge, which separated the port of Haifa from the Mediterranean coastline.

My wife at Eilat, Israel

What I didn't realise as we arrived at the bus depot in Haifa was that the Rosh HaShannah or the Jewish New Year was about to start, and with just about the whole of Israel shutting down, the city was like a ghost town. The only form of transport still running were taxis.
As if to echo Florence of 1981, we were absolutely penny-less. But this time not as a victim of a pickpocket, but from my own lack of foresight to visit a bank while we still had the chance. Stuck with a wedge of useless travel cheques, Alex and I made our way across the city, and began the long ascent up the stairs passing through narrow alleyways as we slowly made it to the summit of Mount Carmel, allowing us a terrific view of the coastline below us. But with heavy rucksacks and an unborn child to boot, we made our way along the road which was meant to take us to Ishfya, eventually.
When we realised we still had a long way to go, we sat on a roadside bench, my face in my hands, in despair. Not so much for myself, since I had spent many nights away from home under the stars. But I was concerned for my wife and her condition.
Soon a taxi pulled up in front of us and the driver leaned out and asked in English where we want to go.
"To Stella Carmel in Ishfya! But we have no money on us whatsoever!"
"Get in!" The driver ordered as he got out to open the trunk to accommodate our luggage.
Inside the car, the driver actually gave us ten shekels! He then explained that he pastored a church nearby, and could not pass by two stranded travelers without lending a hand.
Backpacking. There is something about it which no group travel can match.
There are highlights in the experience, like from the bottom of the Grand Canyon in Arizona, after a day's hiking, looking up at the magnificent display of stars in the clear night sky, seeing thousands of stars I was never able to see from above the UK! Or likewise in Australia, looking up at the Southern Cross, directly overhead. And snorkeling above the corals of the Great Barrier Reef. But the most astonishing moment was in 1997, when the Greyhound bus I was on took a service stop between Townsville and Cannonvale, on the East Australian Pacific Highway linking Cairns with Brisbane and Sydney. As I sat alone at a table at the cafeteria, another bus pulled in for the same reason, and its passengers lined up at the buffet counter. Presently, while meditating, a voice calls out:
"FRANK!"
I looked up. I was alone, over 10,000 miles from home. Nobody knew me here. As such, I did not recognise the stranger standing right next to me.
"Yes, I'm Frank, but who are you?"
"You don't remember? I gave you the spare map of the USA in St Louise two years ago. Remember? That dingy hostel?
Yes, I remember that well. Backpacking - or Vagabond. With all its high points, it is an unforgettable experience.
But it's coping with the low points which turns travel into a real, true-to-life adventure.
Oh well, I guess it's off to the boozer...