Wednesday 7 April 2021

Updates from India 93

 Hi Folks.

Comment this time is lllong! It is about our journey in life from meeting until we moved to India.

So many people still ask us ‘why did you come to India?’ or ‘How did you meet? (most are surprised we married so late in life).

We wrote this account just to record our story of our journey to have some record of it. We have decided to publish it in this blog as we feel it may help other struggling with their faith. As I said it is long so read in parts, all at once or skip it..your choice

                            ............................................................................

We write this so that our testimony will glorify God; it is our story, as one of Gods tools, forged from two parts to make the whole greater than the sum of those parts. (Chris) Christine, my wife has been a Christian for many years, this is a look at our lives before during and after the search for our place in God’s plan and where our faith has led us, where God has sent us to testify to His greatness and to do His work among the poor of India

We are now on a better road thanks to God and His love for all His children.        

In this account we hope to show you the reader that there has to come a point where even the most sceptical will have to admit that coincidence doesn’t work as an explanation.

We urge you to apply Occam's razor to all that is written here.

It is the law of parsimony, economy or succinctness. It is a principle urging one to select from among competing hypotheses that which makes the fewest assumptions and thereby offers the simplest explanation of the effect that explanation is probably the truth.

We are not asking you to just believe us, just look at the other possible explanations and apply that razor.

 

Where to begin?

Chris After a lifetime of denial at age 53 on a mountain in America God saved me, Chris, both my life and my Soul.

At the time I was confused and awed by what had happened to me. I have been a lifelong biker, when God saved me he proved to me he was real by doing the impossible, he took an out of control motorcycle with no brakes on a mountain corner that should have crashed and without any drama stood it up and parked it on the only spare ground on a road with no barriers and no room for mistakes, in a series of S bends.

As I said I had no brakes and no control and I was preparing to hit the ground, he saved me, witnesses said it couldn’t have happened, I should have crashed, but God didn’t let me.

Three days later I accepted Jesus as my Saviour.

Before I became a Christian I tried just about everything going from paganism to witchcraft, for a long time I followed where the Devil led.  My faith came as a revelation; and to be honest as a complete surprise to me. I am still discovering the great depths of God’s love for me. Every day he amazes me, it is so hard to explain sometimes but before I knew him there was an empty space inside, now I am full, now I am complete.

If you would like to read a full account of that incident and my journey to Jesus then I recommend    ‘A Long and Winding Road’, it’s an account of some of my life prior to becoming a Christian. I was not a nice person, drugs and violence filled my life. I walked with the devil for so many years. I had been physically and sexually abused as a child and God was to me at best a myth. There on that mountain in the USA He took me to Him and saved me. I didn’t know why then, it has become clear to me since that he is using me and my life experiences to help others come to Jesus. That is why I wrote my book, to help other see that it is never too late.

This isn’t meant to be a sequel to ‘A Long and Winding Road’ although it is hard not to think of it as such, rather an account of what has happened to my wife and me since.

It is always difficult to begin telling any story let alone one that changes lives utterly. Just where do you begin? For me it was after I accepted Christ into my life in the USA after a lifetime of denial (A Long and Winding Road). For Kris when she as a child knew Jesus was real, then years later became born again. Spiritually I was baptised in the USA when the Holy Spirit entered me but it would be years before I was baptised in water to be truly born again.

For me (Kris, born Christine), my experience of becoming a Christian was very different from Chris’s. The longer I have been a Christian the more varied I see how God works in the individual’s life, but for the majority and I count myself among these it is a gradual coming to know the Lord.

I had my first real experience of knowing Jesus when I was about 9 years of age. I had been seeking God, I tried talking to him, praying, I went to chapel most Sundays (partly because there was a boy I liked called Ian, I had my first crush whilst seeking God, hee hee).

 I sometimes used to have nightmares, made worse by my sister hiding behind the curtains or jumping out from behind the wardrobe or from inside it. Often when I had these nightmares my dad would come into the bedroom I shared with my sister and pray for me, he told me to say the Lord’s Prayer and recite Psalm 23, which I did and it always helped calm me. I also used to dream that my grandfather on my mother’s side was teasing me in my sleep and would have conversations with him, he did not frighten me but I think it worried my sister and my parents.

One night I was alone in bed and I woke to see Jesus standing in the corner, he did not look like the images of him in my bible which showed him as a white blue eyed man with light brown hair. No his image was less Western, he looked more Jewish if I have to be honest. I was absolutely scared and prayed to him to go away as I was frightened, I did not hear him speak but knew he had said to me that he would leave me until I was ready to meet him again. He went and I was so relieved I actually fell asleep quickly; this was not the usual case after my nightmares. I have been told by Christians since that it was probably my imagination or a dream, I know in my heart this was not so. As an adult I continued to search for that missing link, I read my horoscope, had my palm and tarot read and even consulted a spiritualist, but nothing satisfied me.

I then met several people from Emmanuel Church Durham UK, some were colleagues others patients I nursed, they seemed different to the other Christians I had met. Eventually I went to see for myself as I had been having dreams about the church on a regular basis. It was exactly as in my dreams except they danced the conga around the church which terrified and at the same time horrified me, I had been brought up staunch Methodist chapel which is quite severe and reverent. It would be several weeks before I returned, I just had to as my own Methodist church I was attending seemed so dead and boring. I could see that these Christians whilst not perfect were actually trying to live their lives as the bible tells us to.

Several weeks later during one of the appeals to accept Jesus as Saviour, I looked around at those responding and thought no it’s not for me, but God had other plans and my hand rose up without my assistance. I was stunned and could not pull my arm or hand down, it was then I heard God speak to me and say are you ready now, Yes, I was and as soon as I said so I could move my hand and arm. I made the decision to accept Jesus as my Saviour and have never regretted that decision to this day that was in 1996. The following May I was baptized by full immersion in Durham Swimming Baths along with 19 others; this is a day that will stay in my memory till I die.

A close friend said she was happy for me when I became a Christian but said I should not let it change my life. My reply was and still is that if it does not change my life I don’t want it. It is a sad thing but our friendship ended on her part with me becoming a Christian, I often think about her and pray she has come to the Lord but we lost touch and I have no idea where she is except she got married some years ago, I don’t even know her husband’s name so tracing her would be so difficult.

I have to say that as soon as I accepted Christ as my Saviour all things to do with Horoscopes, Black Magic etc became abhorrent to me and to this day I have no desire to read my horoscope or read Denis Wheatley which I had previously been addicted to. I believe this is because Jesus lives within me. I am not saying I have stopped doing everything that was wrong in my life but God is gradually changing me into his image, I just wish sometimes I didn’t make the same mistakes and that it was quicker. As Chris says we are not perfect, I agree we are human and sometimes I know myself I can be selfish and thoughtless but I recognise this and God is teaching me patience as the changes come about still many years after being saved.


This statement is not written to make you believe in Jesus or to change your life, it is written because God won’t let us ignore the need to put into words our experience with Him any longer. If by so doing we help you find His love then the credit is His not ours, we like all Christians are ‘tools’ that He uses as and when He wants to accomplish some purpose and we are so full of love for Him that it is a joy to be used knowing we are doing His work.

In 2010 God made a new tool, He took two parts and made a greater tool by combining Chris and Kris into one being, He then used us in ways we could never have imagined

Christine (Kris) and I were married at Emmanuel Church, Durham in 2011. This was the second time we married but more on that later.

We had met on the internet where our faith drew us together. Kris could have been anywhere in the world.

When we talked it seemed as though we had been passing each other for many years. I had been teaching as a third year student at a Horticultural college when Kris had come to see if that was what she wanted after she had to give up nursing, sadly it wasn’t so I never met her then. Some years before I had gone into hospital to have surgery on my cheekbone, Kris had been a nurse on an adjoining ward, we never met then either. She was also offered an appointment with me through Shaw Trust (A charity helping disabled people recover their self-esteem and find meaningful employment) she went to them to help her get back into work following her retirement from nursing on medical grounds, however as she was keen to have the interview as soon as possible and I was not available, she saw one of my colleagues instead. As we have both said if we had met on any of these occasions we would not have been able to have a personal relationship as both our contracts forbade this type of interaction between clients and or patients, God’s timing is always perfect even when we are not aware of it; in fact especially when we are not aware of it. The cords of our lives were drawing together and only He knew.

I was teaching young people from sixteen to nineteen who had been excluded from school (Still for Shaw Trust). The work was difficult and very stressful but amazingly worthwhile. Helping people turn their lives to a new direction is a fantastic feeling. One evening, sitting at the computer I was writing lesson plans and had become bored after several hours of what is for most teachers a tedious task at the best of times. So I took a break to look at some of the ‘silly’ sites, all sorts of conspiracy theorists and fringe ideas, I love them. On one particular site there was someone talking about faith, what it had done for them and how it was real. Interested I replied that you could have faith in a mushroom but it wouldn’t do you any good.

Her reply started a debate between us that confirmed in both of us the others sincerity.

For months we talked on line, complete honesty between us. She was Artygirl and I was Geminate. We were anonymous people, somewhere in the World, we told each other the complete truth: My past, all my problems with drugs and violence, my childhood, she her disability and depression.

We went to E-mail, again for months we talked openly and honestly about ALL our preferences, all our desires and dreams, then the telephone, gradually learning to trust each other, until the day we finally met.

Why did she go onto that site that night, why did I read at just the right moment to see her post?

Above all where was she in the world?

She was living twenty minutes away. 

She knew my car having seen it drive through her village; she even sat behind me at traffic lights one day!

Why was she a dedicated Christian talking about faith when I needed so much to understand myself what real faith truly means?

Why had I searched for a church for seven years without success?

All I had found were traditional ‘English’ churches that for me felt empty or ‘Christian Centres’ that were more weekly gossip meetings where I could never fit. Call it all coincidence, or apply that razor…..you choose.

Kris: I have much to thank God for in my life, I worked for many years as a Nurse and Health Visitor before having to take medical retirement due to progressive degenerative Osteo arthritis at the age of 40. This was devastating for me to hear and I did not take it well, I became very depressed and had to take anti-depressants for several years. I went from being a half full kind of person to half empty, not something I liked.

I became more immobile as I was no longer able to take the medication to control my pain as it triggered severe Asthma attacks. My walking got so bad that I was using arm crutches and struggled to walk 5 to 6 steps which was agony for me.

I used to be able to pop to the shop and it would take 5 to 10 minutes the same now took me at least 2 hours.

I had to stop my pride from taking over and eventually agreed to apply for a disabled car badge; I also had to change from driving a manual car to an automatic due to the pain and difficulty I had with my condition. To make matters worse I was then diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and although difficult to accept the diagnosis it did explain my tiredness, fatigue and difficulties I was having. I was taking a lot of strong pain killers but nothing seemed to get it under control and sometimes I became housebound.

I was working now for a medico legal company reading medical reports, dealing with complaints etc., but I had to go part time as I was not coping.

The Consultant and my GP who were great got me an appointment with the Pain Clinic and  I started on pain patches which had to be changed every 5 days, after a while my skin reacted to the patches and they were changed to a different make which were changed every 3 days, these were morphine based controlled drugs.

I had been trying to avoid them for several years but my pain got so bad it was a last resort, acupuncture had a temporary affect but did not last.

I remember seeing the pain consultant and telling him I had been pain free for 1 hour which I thought I would never be again, he assured me he could get the dosage right to give me more time pain free or at least able to ignore the pain at times.

I am very grateful to him and his team I really needed it at that time, I had prayed for healing for many years myself and through my church but nothing had changed at that time.

I gained a large amount of weight put on at least 4 stone, in part due to my lack of mobility and the high dosage of steroids I was taking which caused Cushing’s Syndrome. I was not in a good state, physically or mentally yet I still felt very much Gods presence even though I could no longer get to Church on Sundays or to mid-week meetings. 

I never felt he had deserted me, friends I had known for years were treating me differently they couldn’t see it but they were, not everyone but some I would not have expected it from had you asked me prior to me becoming disabled. The roles were now reversed I had spent most of my life caring or nursing others now I needed people to care for me. I was not a very gracious recipient of their help at times, but I was learning to be tolerant but gently tell them when I could do things myself I would even if it did take a long time and caused me pain, I just had to do it I could not and would not give up. The doctors said I would end up in a wheelchair, I did not want this to happen and fought against the suggestions of using a wheelchair.

I went from being financially well off with a well-paid job to living on a small pension, I had used my savings to live and eventually got myself into debt which I was struggling to repay.

The mortgage I had taken out on my home was well within my means whilst I was well paid but became harder and harder to keep paying when I was relying on my small medical pension from the NHS. I got into so much debt that my house became repossessed and I became homeless.

I had struggled mentally and financially to keep up the repayments and I felt ashamed and even more depressed at this time.

I had not known Chris long when I lost my home; he was a huge support even going with me to housing to get emergency accommodation.

A friend from university let me stay with her for a few days until I got emergency housing. God was at work, he gave me accommodation in the same village Chris was now living in and it was 5 mins from his house.

I then got a bungalow in a village nearby.

From the sale of my home there was a little money left over after all my debts had been paid from the mortgage to pay off my other debts, God was truly with me even in difficult circumstances.

Chris never judged me; he was a great support and encouragement. Many friends suggested I move in with Chris when I became homeless, for me it was important not to, I knew if Chris and I were ever to be together I needed him and everyone else to know it was for the right reasons not because I was desperate. I moved into my own bungalow to be independent.

(Chris) For us it was forever from the first meeting. How do you explain to anyone that in an instant you knew what had been itching at the back of your head was confirmed just by that first touch? For both of us it was instant, no doubts, we both knew we would never be with anyone else again. Any barriers were just blown away, within seconds of meeting our lips touched, not by our choice, we just did it, we both just knew. Kris’s family and close friends still can’t believe she did not slap my face when we kissed.

(Kris) For me this would have been my automatic reaction to anyone invading my personal space, my barriers were more than 40 feet deep and just as high, but God just let them all crumble and the thought did not even cross my mind. I just knew Chris was different and was equally surprised that I responded to his kiss.

(Chris)Our love grew like a fire, unquenchable, but she like me had no church so we prayed together that we would find one. We tried several ranging from a large Pentecostal to small village chapel then Kris suggested Emmanuel Durham, her old church.

She had been thinking about it but wanted to let me come to the choice after seeing others. So off we went one Sunday. We were a little late and the service had already begun as we entered the music team broke into ‘’Oh Happy Day’’. From that moment we had found our church.

My faith and my unshakeable belief in God had come in an instant some 7 years earlier in the USA when He literally saved both my life and my soul. Here in this church it was to find purpose and fulfilment.

In the Bible it says of Paul (sometimes called Saul) when he was saved, (Acts 9:18 NIV) ‘Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptised.’ Here it speaks of the physical blindness caused by his experience on the road to Damascus but it also speaks of him finding his faith and no longer being blind to God’s work. That’s how it was for me, one moment blind the next I could see. My past was, through baptism and my complete faith in the power of Christ to cleanse you of your sins to become dead to me, but in dying it would give me a story to write and that would in time raise thousands of pounds for an Indian Hostel.

Sometime later we decided to live together, but for us that was not possible without marriage, those who knew me of old will find this hard to believe but God has a way of making you see the truth about yourself.

We journeyed to the oldest Christian Church in the UK, there Kris and I made our oath of marriage before God and witnesses in St Mary’s Church at Lindisfarne.

We married that day and from then on we knew we were man and wife in the eyes of God forever. Lindisfarne is known locally as Holy Island, it is the site of the very first Christian Settlement in the UK.  We both prayed for the Lord to guide us if He accepted we were sincere to give us joy or if we were wrong, or in sin then we prayed for a sense of guilt.

We felt complete joy, rightness about our union, not just happy but a feeling that this was all part of Gods plan for us. Two parts had been made whole. One new tool had been forged from two separate pieces. 

Some in our church expressed the view that we just wanted to sleep together, if that is all there was to it then why did we kneel before God and swear to be together always? We simply said “We are married in the eyes of God and that is what matters to us” One of our elders couldn’t see it but at least one understood and counselled us, listened to what we had done and accepted our marriage. I always found Andrew to be a deeply committed Christian, who lived the word not just reads it. He has been an inspiration to us. To see pure faith and the willingness to follow the Lords word no matter where it took him and his family was to me a revelation. As a ‘new’ Christian I was surprised at some of the reaction to our marriage. People I saw as Christian couldn’t accept that we had taken an oath before God, in a Holy place, before witnesses as not being sufficient to say we were in fact married        

             We both believe that God married us that day and that it was His will that we were together. Many times since He has spoken with us, guided our path and been our constant support.

From that day we lived together.

It wasn’t all Roses, far from it at times, my past interfered because I found it so hard to trust and Kris was new to a relationship of any kind. Things she had done alone for years she now had someone do for her, to help her, care for her. As a fiercely independent woman this was hard for Kris to accept. So often in her life ‘help’ had been something she had resisted, especially as when we met she was disabled and fighting to remain independent.

We had many good days but sometimes we didn’t, those days were horrible for both of us.

I would over react to something Kris said or did, she couldn’t understand fully my deep seated mistrust of women. But gradually we helped each other to trust and leave the past behind. Please don’t think this was easy, even now nearly eight years later the dark of my past can intrude into our lives. Neither of us would change our pasts, it’s what God used to make ‘us’ effective as His tool.

I had by this time with Kris’s encouragement begun writing my life story. Nobody but us knows the pain and nightmares I suffered during that year it took to write. Some nights I would wake screaming covered in sweat. Poor Kris, there were many times a bad night became for both of us a bad day. Remembering is an awful lot different to having to write about it. To do that you have to relive every buried memory, things never told before now in print. The first draft was according to our Senior Pastor ‘Too graphic’ sorry but that’s how it was, that was the truth of my life, however I still had to cut large sections out and rewrite others. It seems wrong but it was that or no support from the church when it came to selling it.

I have one vivid memory that still today is as fresh in my memory as if it happened last week. It had to come out of the book, but I will explain it here.

My mother was an extremely violent person, mostly I was the target but on this particular day it was my father who she aimed her hatred at.

WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENT They were again shouting at each other, I was in the kitchen (keeping out of the way as when my mother got like this I was usually the outlet for her violence) then my mother screamed and I heard a thump, fearing what may have happened I opened the door to see my mother laying back on the stairs where my Father had pushed her away from him, (In all my life I never saw him hit her, he was a gentle man) she reached beneath her skirt and holding up a bloody hand screamed ‘Look what he’s done to me’. I ran from the house in terror, no idea of where I was going, I just ran. My Father God bless him caught me and talked very calmly to me. That’s how I found out about periods and the monthly cycle. This was only one occasion off many that led me not to trust women to but for me it was a pivotal moment in my life. To do such a thing to a child even now horrifies me.

 My first wife was repeatedly unfaithful while I was in the RAF serving in Northern Ireland; our senior Pastor who had read the first proof, the beatings, being locked naked in the kitchen larder for hours, put in hospital at least twice. The subsequent failed relationships because of my violent past once asked Kris why I didn’t trust.

Kris bore this boiling hatred of my past as I wrote it; she so often was the innocent victim of the results of a night of being eight or nine again.

She always held me and loved me no matter how hard it got for either of us. I loved in a way I never knew I could, I began to trust for the first time in my life. It was a delicate trust, hanging by the thread of complete honesty between us.

We read the Bible together, talking and debating points of view, it was for both of us a time of discovery.

One afternoon while Kris was out a man came to fit a new aerial for us, the old one having blown away. He was in and out for a while and must have noted the Bibles on the book shelf because when he had finished and we were having a coffee before he left he asked if he could tell me a story. This is his testimony to an event he experienced.

A keen Sea fisherman from his small boat he used to take his son (about 12yrs old I think) with him if it wasn’t a school day. Usually in the evenings; on this particular day he and his son were some miles off the shore fishing a favourite spot, a deep hole known to hold large fish. Unnoticed by them the horizon faded out in a thick fog. When he realised what was happening he decided to head in. For a few moments all went well, then the engine quit. Nothing he did would restart it. No phone, no oars, no radio. He had a compass but it was of no use without a means to propel the boat. Don’t be judgemental…..but he had made a grave mistake as we all do at times in our lives.

For hours they drifted, it was getting rough as the swell increased tossing them about like a cork, evening was turning to night and the weather was deteriorating. For the first time in many years he knelt and prayed out loud for God to help, he prayed that God save his son even if He couldn’t save him. He had always believed in a God but like most people in an abstract way, not as his Lord or Jesus as his saviour. He openly admitted he was afraid; the swell was by now quite dangerous to an unpowered small boat. The danger of swamping becoming quite real.

In his own words ‘A tunnel in the fog opened and through it we could see land’ He tried once more to start the engine, it started at the first try and joyfully but amazed he headed through the now closing tunnel to safety.

As he looked behind he saw solid fog again closing the tunnel.

From that day he believed God’s power is real and that He had acted to intervene to save his son. This is how he put it to me, not to save him but his son.

Having shared an amazing testimony with me he went onto his next job.

We have never heard of him again but we both wonder what God had in store for him and his son. Another tool in God’s eternal toolbox? We wonder how many seeds of faith he planted during his telling of that story over the years following.

He struck me as a typical ‘straight’ northerner, to the point and honest. At times as he spoke as if reliving the moment, I completely believe him and what he said happened that day. He found it hard to say at times, embarrassing even, but he came across to me as completely sincere.

Over the years we have been given many such testimonies, from people of all walks of life, all now forever changed by their experience.

Of my own experience that changed me I can only say that God changed the law of physics, what could not happen did, and crucially, in front of witnesses who could not explain what they had seen. One, a good friend would never talk about it although at the time his comment was ‘how the #uck did you do that!!!’. He could never explain what he saw, so he closed his mind to it. (For the full account of my journey to Christ Jesus read ‘A Long and Winding road’ C R Hyde ISBN 978-178035-315-9)

Years later when he passed I prayed as I still do for his soul to be at peace, and to know the Lord.

Why is it that so many will believe in UFO’s more willingly than they can believe in God? For us the answer is quite straight forward, the devils greatest tool is that many don’t believe in him, it therefor follows that they can’t believe in God. Instead so many accept the idea of alien life visiting Earth and deny the Lord. Many live to accumulate riches. Jesus said it’ you cannot worship mammon and God.

To the ruthless, the corrupt, the unscrupulous earthy wealth can come, but in the end where does it get them. Something we have heard in India ‘What good is money if not to do good’? God gives us free will, to choose, His embrace or the path of mammon and damnation.

As an ex addict I know the exhilaration of drugs when you first start using, it feels wonderful, mind opening, then it destroys you because nothing good can ever come from evil, it’s the same for a life worshipping wealth and power as your god. Money should be (and for many is) a tool for good, great good can be done with it in God’s name. It’s when money for its own sake becomes your god that you are lost.

Kris and I both know now a life that is so enriching that NO amount of money could change our path, it would just add to the good we could do here in India.

We were still attending Emmanuel church Durham and visiting another Church in Darlington occasionally, where we also made some good friends. In both churches we found the same devotion to following God’s word.

It had been seven years since I accepted the Lord in the USA, and I was ready to give my life to Jesus.

I was baptised in water by full immersion as Jesus tells us.

Mark 16:16

“Whoever believes and is baptised will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned”.

Our Senior Pastor was surprised that it had to be in a river, I just felt it had to be, so it was in the river Wear at Durham, at the same time my name was changed by deed poll to Christopher my middle name, I kept my first name as my middle name but shortened it to honour my father whose name it had been, the person I had been was gone, and I had been Reborn.

 

(Kris). Chris dreamt about the river he was to be baptised in and even drew me a map of where the river had a bend and the exact location of where he was to be baptised. We went to Finchale Abbey which is a ruin next to the actual river Chris was to be baptised in and across from the Abbey on the other side of the river was a small sandy area. This was exactly the same place Chris had dreamt of and described to me and it was on that very spot in the river that he was baptised by full immersion. We had no idea where the Church had chosen except it was near Finchale Abbey until the day of Baptism and although I knew the area reasonably well Chris had not been there before, is that just another coincidence, I don’t think so. Neither does Chris.

(Chris) Kris was there singing and cheering as I went in. Some non-Christian friends and some of my church were also there and I was one of three that came to the Lord that day.

Here now in India I still have a small box filled with sand and leaves from the riverside that friends gave me that day….and an odd memory of a guy in a canoe watching the service. The next day we returned to where I had been baptised just to sit and contemplate the moment and pray. As we were sitting on the small sandy patch looking into the river with the rocks and swirling water a couple walked past “Come to do it again?” they asked. It seems they had watched the whole thing from the opposite bank the day before.                                                                                                                                         

We testified to our faith in Christ and they went on their way wishing us both well. I wonder, did we plant a seed that day

Some weeks later.

(Kris): It had been a long day I was a little worried about Chris as he had asked me to make him an appointment at the doctors. Chris would not tell me what for and said he did not need me to go with him which was unusual. I tried broaching the subject but he either ignored it or changed subject, he was distracted is all I could say. Yes I was concerned that there was something seriously wrong with him that he was shielding me from.

We had spent the evening after Chris came in eating a lovely Indian, meal I can’t remember what now just that it was nice to sit at the table together and it tasted good.

We then watched a movie, again I cannot recall what we watched, I was concerned about Chris but did not want to nag him. By the time we had eaten and watched the movie it was very late, I was sitting on the sofa in old clothes when Chris said he had something he wanted to say to me.

Chris sat on the floor in front of me and took my hands in his, which he had done many times before. I was really nervous what could be wrong with him.

Chris then asked if I would do him the very great honour of consenting to become his wife. Chris held out a beautiful 3 stone diamond engagement ring in a wooden box which he presented to me, I was shocked, dumbstruck. I was not expecting a proposal. My reply in a very squeaky voice was “Yes Oh Yes”, he made me the happiest woman alive.

I was then 51 years of age and had totally given up on the idea of marriage. I have always said and still believe I would rather be single than be married to the wrong man. I do still hear my mother’s voice saying to me “I will be dead before you get married” my reply to her was always the same I would not get married just to keep others happy. I do regret that she had died before seeing me married but I believe she is with the Lord and could see my happiness anyway.

The engagement ring was fabulous it fitted perfectly, Chris had felt my fingers to get the measurement and being an engineer he knew how to do that easily. He chose the ring himself and everyone including myself commented on what good taste he has. The 3 (very good) diamonds represent our love for each other, our complete honesty with each other and our oneness with the Lord.

I only have small fingers so the saleslady did not think Chris had got the right size and told him he could return it for the correct size if it was too small. It was a perfect fit, and coincidentally she sold us our wedding rings and remembered the small engagement ring Chris had bought. I remember her telling him when he asked for her opinion when he bought it she replied “what is not to like”!

Next day I was at University and my lecturer in Sculpture noticed the diamonds shining in the subdued lighting of the sculpture studio and asked to put the lights on for a better look. Her comments were a real nice bit of bling, and privately she commented that they were beautiful diamonds and to take good care of them.

My family and friends whilst shocked that I was getting married at my age but were very happy for us both. 

I  was even warned by some friends that Chris may just be interested in me because of my disability and needed someone to look after me; I knew Chris was not this kind of person.

(Chris). When we first met this was something Kris wanted to make very clear to me, she did not want me to be a carer, and she wanted to be treated as ‘normal’ not disabled.

I have been lucky enough to have spent some of my life with people who have special needs, both mentally and physically and have learned that if you offer help and are refused then accept that refusal in good grace, so Kris on crutches didn’t bother me, I saw her as Kris no more, no less and treated her as such.

We were married for the second time at Emmanuel Church Durham. It over ran by two hours, everyone who came really enjoyed themselves and blessed our marriage.

(Kris.) The day of our wedding arrived and to say I was excited, nervous and still in shock that I was getting married would be an understatement. Geraldine a good friend from church had kindly offered to come to the house and do my hair, and another friend Theresa from university came to help me dress. Chris was still at home getting ready and my brother Peter arrived from Newcastle to drive us to church in his jaguar. Peter was chauffer and he also was giving me away as my father had died several years ago. Peter was nervous as he took Chris to the church then came back for me. We decided to do a traditional wedding in that our vows were traditional, we had a wedding cake and reception but it was going to be in our style and personality. Chris left early for the church carrying some sticks and a bag which he wouldn’t tell me what was in it or what it was for, to be honest I just let him get on with his thing as I had a lot to do.

Unknown to me at the time Chris had put a sticker on the bedroom door saying “sex slave” and had hung a whip over the curtain pole in the bedroom. Apparently both Geraldine and Theresa had seen them but bless them they did not comment to me at the time, I found them on my return from honeymoon, but that’s Chris’s sense of humour for you. Geraldine did a lovely job with my hair and then went home to get ready herself; Theresa dressed at my house and travelled in the front with Peter as we set off for Church. We dropped her at the side of the church building so we could arrive in style. As I arrived Geraldine, Janet and Katy Lin were there to make sure my wedding dress and veil were all just right. I had shocked them all because they did not think I was going to be wearing a traditional Ivory wedding gown with train. I think I shocked a lot of people, one comment later on in the day was did I have my jeans on underneath, No I didn’t and I was wearing wedding shoes not trainers, I knew because of my disability this would be hard for me but I wanted it all to be just right and I also decided to walk without a stick or crutches. At this point Chris still thought I was going to be wearing a dark purple wedding gown without train, as this was an ongoing tease between us.

The reason being Chris had told me our caterers were being investigated by environmental health for rat droppings in their mince. I had been shocked at the caterers and butcher had excellent reputations and I knew their premises were pristine clean. I believed him initially as he said the information had come from a reputable person in our church. When I realised he was winding me up some days later I decided to get my own back with a purple dress, which he accepted as it’s my favourite colour, but I knew he would have preferred me to wear a more traditional gown in Ivory. We often tease each other its part of who we are as a couple, friends who can have a joke and laugh about things. The beauty of my joke was that I showed him two sample swatches of dark purple wedding gown fabric, kindly provided by my wedding gown shop that was in on the joke. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he knew I’d got him.

As we had driven along the road to the church I noticed several signs stating “this way to the man sacrifice” Peter did not comment, he just grinned. Inside were further signs which Katy Lin tried to shield me from in case I got upset, I just thought it was funny. Anne the registrar came out to see if I was ok and told me Chris was nervous but looking handsome and she said he scrubbed up well, hee hee.

We entered the church not to the traditional here comes the bride but to one of my favourite childhood hymns as I didn’t want people staring at me whilst I walked down the aisle. Peter was great and allowed me to walk at my own pace supported by him.

(Chris)

Since that time we have witnessed a truly miraculous healing, Kris has thrown away her crutches, her spine has stopped degenerating and has straightened.  In fact she has gained one and one half inches in height and she now walks without even a stick to aid her.

God does perform miracles; remember that razor, spontaneous cure of an incurable disease with a series of X rays at several different hospitals to prove it was real and that the medical profession can’t explain or the miracle that so many prayed for? It may be possible for one hospital to make mistakes on X rays but Kris had X rays taken at 4 different hospitals and they all can’t be wrong, I believe God was at work, preparing His tool for the work He had for us...

Christine and I had talked and decided to go to India for the honeymoon; I had wanted to visit for years so this was my chance. Back in the 1970’s I had dreamed of the hippie trail, across land to India, but the changing politics put a stop to the hundreds that had travelled that route.

We just about had enough money to go and be able to enjoy ourselves as a honeymooning couple should. We looked at the brochures, made plans, for me it was dreams come true. Kris also loved the idea, being an artist/illustrator she was really looking forward to seeing all the different colours and the Indian style of painting which she was hoping to learn about. We both also talked about the food, all the different flavours, we both really enjoy Indian cooking and were looking forward to learning some new recipes and tasting ‘real’ Indian food. Our plans progressed, looking at flights, searching for where in India we would like to visit.

A few weeks later Kris and I both felt we had to talk to the other; neither of us wanted to but felt we had to. We were in Church at the time when we both admitted we had to tell each other something important Independently we had both been told not to go to India but to go to Albania by God. ‘Told by God’ how do I explain that, apply that razor, did we both have the same delusion, the same compulsive need to change plans, just scrap the dreams, cancel the arrangements on a whim? Or did we both get a message independently from God. It’s a deep compulsion, almost a sixth sense not to go to India so hard to explain, it’s that feeling you get if you know you are doing wrong, stealing that sweet as a child, you got away with it so why do you feel that inner voice? Kris really didn’t want to tell me as she was sure I would be upset because she knew how much I was looking forward to India. I didn’t want to tell Kris either for much the same reason but in a stilted and then incredulous conversation we both told the other what we believed God had said, one confirmed the other, there was no doubt. One message, to both of us!

WE BOTH knew before the other spoke. I believe that by telling both of us God had made quite certain that we would follow his word and that both of us would be fully aware of Gods will at work in our lives, conformation is important in anything but in this especially for me it was vital. I hadn’t been a Christian as long as Kris and this dramatic a change in plans based on what is a ‘feeling’ or perhaps better described as a ‘compulsion’ that you just cannot ignore was very new to me.

We both believe that God doesn’t determine your path in this life. He gives you options and opportunities, the choice to follow His will or not is yours.

So, we were going to Albania. In fact Kris had been going to go to Albania with the church many years before but had felt strongly that it was not the time, I will let Kris explain.

(Kris) Church had been involved with charity collections of much needed basic essentials such as toothpaste, toothbrushes, soap, pens, paper etc. and put the items in shoeboxes for a group of people to take out to Albania by lorry  to those in need along with clothing. I had a couple of years after the initial trips decided to join one of the groups and go out as a volunteer. However I felt strongly God telling me my motives were wrong and that it was not the right time, but that it would be special when I did go.

Little did I know that I would go years later and on my honeymoon, I am so pleased I stuck to my principles and listened to God and not friends who urged me to go and delayed that trip.

We prayed and changed our plans. Oh… if only it had been that easy, but practicalities aside that’s the crux of it.

We were going to Albania.

 

(Chris) Our flight to Albania had up to an nine hour layover in Italy, it was supposed to be for six or nine hours sitting in an airport, this seemed such a waste to both of us as neither had seen Rome so we extended the ‘layover’ to four days. We had already booked the flight to Albania at the travel agent in Sunderland and were leaving the city when we started talking about the delay. We quickly agreed that it would be nice to see Rome for a few days so we headed straight back to the travel agent. The young lady who had initially helped us book our flights was more than happy to change our plans and suggested we stay in a nice hotel just outside the city, she thought it was romantic.

When we got to Rome the weather was great and we got a taxi to the hotel. It was in a secluded nice area and was quite modern. The staff all spoke English and they were very professional, pleasant and helpful. There was a nice atmosphere and the room was nice and clean. We thought one night we would try the food in the restaurant, can’t remember what we had but it was Italian and very nice. The wine waiter had a great sense of humour and Chris made him a small bike made out of tooth picks which the guy loved, he kept it on the bar at least until we vacated the hotel. I do think he liked it and there were other things of interest in the bar area so who knows it may still be there. We decided not to do the tourist taxi from outside the hotel as we had been told they would just take you where they wanted and charge a lot of money.

Yes, Rome is fantastic; we did the touristy things, saw monuments, paintings and ate luxurious Italian ice cream and soaked up the sun. we watched the Italian parade horses all white and riders in red as the official guard escorted some politician in his big black car and walked the same streets that Paul walked over 2000 years before………..incredible

(Kris) I had studied the colosseum many years before so was excited to visit. We did the tourist show around the colosseum then spent the rest of our time exploring ourselves. Although I had studied the colosseum it did not do it justice, it’s much better in real life. There was restoration work going on so a few areas were off limit but we did get to see pretty much all we could have dreamed of. It was good being with Chris looking around as he like me enjoys history and is well read.

To see even the bullet holes in the stonework up close makes it all the more real that it was not totally destroyed in World War 2. To see the underground areas where the prisoners and animals were caged in Roman times and to see how complex the building actually is was phenomenal. It is particularly interesting that the whole colosseum could be fully evacuated when full in less than ten minutes if it had to be. That is because it has many different entrances and exits on all floors to allow a mass of people to pass without problems. Maybe our modern large arenas could take a leaf out of the designer’s book here. If you want to get a real feel for the place its history, atmosphere and great architecture you really need one or two days to look around fully.  We would definitely recommend you don’t just settle for the official tour as you would miss so much.

A cross stands as a memorial to the many Christian marters who died here rather than renounce their faith. We paused to pray for them at what is a poinient reminder of the struggle so many still have to practice their faith openly.

When we left the colosseum we decided to walk around the old streets of Rome where a lot of the early Christians must have walked. We decided to just wander and in doing so came across lots of interesting alleys still cobbled as in the days of Jesus and hidden gems of buildings and old churches. In one such street we met a local artist who finding out Kris was also an artist invited us to look at his studio which was on several levels.

(Kris) It was fascinating to see he was still using some of the old techniques and mixing his own colours and the work was very varied from religious to abstract. He did not try to sell to us he was just happy to share the joy he felt in his work. We would have missed it had we stuck to the more touristy areas.

Chris knowing how much I loved art and sculpture happily came with me to see some of the art museums. There are a lot of buildings open to the public with interesting old and modern sculptures, some charge admission others are free. It was when we came out of one of the museums that we saw the famous steps we’ve seen in films about Rome, very steep an lots of them. I remember standing at the bottom of the steps and wanting to get to the top, Chris was just thinking about getting a taxi to take us around on the road which is what a lot of people were doing, when I decided I’d try walking up them.

Chris bless him knowing me well did not treat me as disabled but encouraged my effort. It took a while and I stopped several times to enjoy the view and yes it was worth it, pain and all. I had a few funny looks and positive comments from people also climbing the steps as I plodded up them on my crutches with Chris at my side. The view from the top was magnificent and there was a small kind of park at the top with plenty of taxis waiting for business. After looking around the park, pausing to soak up the sun, admiring the statues and sculptures we got a taxi to take us back down.

The food in Rome was really good and we ate at some nice little bistro type places. Those of you who know Chris know he loves pizza but hates pasta, I persuaded Chris to try some Italian pasta hoping the original might change his mind, but alas he still hates the taste and texture, but I did try. I have to admire him for at least trying. We are both keen to try local food where we can it’s the only real way to know if you like something or not.

Yes we did have Italian ice cream sitting on some Italian steps with numerous others doing the same thing, as I’m lactose intolerant I  knew I’d suffer but I had to at least once have real Italian ice cream and it was worth the discomfort.

Both of us having seen many films set in Rome in the past recognised several well recognised landmarks one of which was the Trevi Fountain, we actually stumbled across it when we were walking the narrow streets of Rome. Whilst it is a magical looking fountain we were surprised that it was smaller than we thought and surprised where it was set, not quite so splendid as depicted in films but we did throw some money in and sat on the side and prayed together. Apparently every night the fountains are cleared of money and we were told the money was given to charity but how true that is we don’t know but it is a nice thought.

One sour note about Rome. We found a small piazza, a beautiful fountain, coffee shops and a small church (Roman Catholic). Being tourists we looked around the fountain, dating from the early Roman period as the City expanded and the aqueducts were built to supply water to the citizenry.

Outside on the church bottom step sat an old woman, tired and frail in the heat, just resting. She was obviously not well off but wasn’t begging, just watching the world pass by. Her clothes were worn but clean, she had a certain dignity about her, she maybe poor but she was no beggar.

A young priest, handsome in his cassock and coloured trimming wearing his bejewelled crucifix on an elaborate gold chain approached her, we thought he was going to offer help, instead he told her sternly to move from the steps and not to rest there. There was plenty of room, wide curving steps to the church, no reason to move her.

She moved slowly away, the tourists had all the seats so she sat on the fountain edge in a slightly shaded spot, she looked so tired and poor that our hearts went out to her, but what could we do.

We decided to look around the church since we were there. It was splendid all gold and jewelled crosses, the Virgin Mary on a pedestal, everywhere we looked there were riches bedecking the inside. Painted and gold leaf on the walls and fresco’s, deep carpets of bright red, rare wooden fittings dating back to the time of the crusades. How many millions of Pounds Sterling were in that one small church we don’t dare estimate.

We discovered to leave you had to pass by: the souvenir shop, a ‘paintings of the Church’ stall a postcard stall and finally through a small passage where we found the same young priest we had seen outside with his collection box.

We passed by all giving nothing to support this temple to wealth until once again on the street we saw the same old woman slowly making her way. As we passed her we pressed a sum of money into her hand, she looked so grateful but we just said ‘May God bless you’ and passed on our way. The reason we mention this isn’t because we gave her a gift, it is because with all its wealth the Church is meaningless without compassion. What would Jesus have done!

After three really enjoyable and very full days we hopped aboard the big silver bird and headed finally towards Albania and whatever awaited us there.

Now that’s what we call a proper layover and no airport food!

(Chris) We had tried to explain to our friends and our church why we had changed from India to Albania, some accepted it was not our choice; some looked at us as though we had become demented. After all if you look at our decision with no faith in the Lord what do you see? One simple fact, Kris and I were spending our honeymoon in Albania because we believed we had been told to go there by God beyond that we had no idea what we were doing there or what we would find. Talk about a mystery tour.

We arrived in Albania with open minds, a sense of mission and excitement still however puzzled by why we had been sent here.

We were ‘fortunate’ enough to meet some really wonderful people from the very first day. Fatos, on day one at the airport, a cab owner in his fifties who genuinely  befriended us and showed us parts of Tirana that we would never have seen had we not met him (without any extra charges, we were his guest) he is a remarkable man, genuinely warm and friendly.

Descended from an old and respected Albanian family he hated the communists who stole all his family had worked for over the generations and left them penniless when they took over. He is now rebuilding, he owns several taxies and employs the drivers, his hours are as required, and long. He is determined to regain his family’s financial independence. We both believe he will succeed, he is a determined man. While we were there he showed us ‘his’ city. He took us up a cable car to look out over the city and to show us the many ‘one man’pill boxes that are planted throughout the area, one of the communist defence measures from those sad times in their past. 

We sat and drank thick dark coffee together in a park next to a manmade lake under red umbrellas, there we learned about Albanian pride and his faith in their country.

We learned something of their past and the belief they have in their heritage. I talked to him about my own faith in Jesus and he politely listened. Then explained to me that his friends say he is a Muslim, although he does not attend the mosque as often as he should, but his real faith and the faith of most of his countrymen is Albanian. They have been invaded so often with each conqueror bringing their own faith with them that they have learned that as long as they believe in Albania, and all it stands for then that is more than enough. He can trace his native language back to the times of the Old Testament; they are an old people with much to be proud of.

We talked, he a Muslim and me a Christian, my Bible teaches peace and love to all including my enemies, the Koran also teaches love but then goes on to say destroy the infidel (non believer) so in the end it teaches not to be tolerant of other faiths but to bring them to the truth, to destroy their false faith. We talked for a good while about this, about both radical Muslims and radical Christians who use violence to try and force others to change their beliefs, his view is that it means destroy the others faith to bring them to the ‘one true faith’ We discussed it for a while, both committed to his point of view until we decided that these were matters for wiser men, and went back to our coffee, if only the whole world could sit, drink coffee and talk as we did then perhaps we would have a little more understanding of each other than we now do.

We left Fatos the next day to continue our travels in his country; we will never forget his kindness and warmth or his fierce pride in his country. We were made wiser for meeting him.

Later that first week we travelled north to meet a fellow Christian, Rob working to ‘plant’ a church and help bring Christianity to Albania. He is doing fine work with the youth and the children but the older parents are apathetic in the most part and even hostile to his efforts at times. We ate with him and his wife and listened to his stories of the children and his prayer to bring many to Christ.

Part of me wanted to stay and help develop the church there, but although it was tempting there was no word from God, no compulsion. No doubt had we stayed God would have blessed our efforts but we felt He wanted more from us that that, He had other plans for us. It may sound odd here and now but then, there, we didn’t ‘fit’.

Rob and his wife live in a town so they have many of the amenities that we in the west take so much for granted. Water, however it comes and goes depending on demand, a flush toilet assuming any water is available, electricity, again it comes and goes but compared to most this is luxury indeed. We had been given their contact details by our church in Durham with a promise that we would look them up while we were there.  (Kris) I had known Rob many years before as he was a member of Emmanuel Church, but did not know him well and had lost touch with him, although aware of the work he was doing in Albania.

They made us so welcome in their home and although we had never met before we felt like they were our friends when we left after only two days. Their town is a mass of overhead wires and plastic bottle tips, dusty roads and seemingly no traffic control although the Albanian Police are always in evidence at any event or visit by a VIP.  

We had decided to hire a car from the airport, it was the best place to get one but the amount of paperwork we had to fill in and leave a large deposit on our credit card before we were given a car made it seem a long process as well as the long wait for the owner of the car hire company to arrive to authorise the loan and we think to vet us before agreeing. But at last Chris was given the keys to our hire car.                               

(Chris) I was driving the hire car we had collected from the airport in Tirana so we wouldn’t be dependent on public transport; anyway, I parked it intending to visit a shop, as I stopped a local Police officer started across the road towards me obviously displeased with my manoeuvre, he looked at the registration, (the car was registered in Tirana) and he scowled at me as he approached my window. I knew I had done something wrong by the look on his face, our friend Rob who was in his car following us got out and spoke to the police officer in broken Albanian explaining we were English and had come to see his country, at this his whole attitude changed, he beamed at us and welcomed us to ‘his’ area, ‘park where you like but be quick.’ Again and again we were to meet such pride in their country from the Albanian people. We said goodbye to Rob and his wife the following day and headed north into a wild Albania of rivers and desolate mountain roads. Rob had suggested one of the places we visit was up in the mountains a place called Puke’, (pronounce poo kay) his wife advised us not to go. Wish we had listened to her.

(Kris) We set off for Puke’ and it was a winding twisting and turning road up into the mountains, Chris did a great job driving and encouraging our hire car to make the long climbs (tiny underpowered town car). We had hired a brand new Chrysler Spark in bright red, I think the manufacturers got the description wrong because I definitely don’t think it lived up to its name “spark”, more like splutter at times but it did get us there safely if slowly. We ascended the mountain roads and saw, just outside the town a huge building on the left set well back in the forest which looked like a prison camp complete with 3 phase electric and high double wired boundaries which were electrified, definitely spooky looking place. There was a four storey concrete block with small barred slotted windows, maybe a hundred we could see.

When we asked the locals they appeared jittery, changed the subject but when pushed said it was a warehouse, yeah right as if we believed that one. When we got into the town we were immediately met by a young local man who looked like he worked for the kgb who had been elected to befriend us and suss us out, he was pleasant but tried to control what we were doing. He directed us to the only hotel at the top of the town (very small town) and we booked in. It was basic, Barred window and no door lock, there was a shower over the bath but the bath tub had many holes in it so not really useable. I had one shower, having slipped and badly bruised myself including getting a black eye I decided once was enough. We stayed one night had a meal and left the next day for lake skodra. What a relief to be out of this atmosphere where everyone treated us suspiciously.

 (Chris) On the journey back we had stopped at a small lake deep in the mountains. There was a scree slope of about 15 meters down to the water and the inevitable dump of bricks plastic and general waste. I managed to slide then fall down it, not I hasten to mention, voluntarily. Nothing injured just a few scrapes and the odd bruise. I looked back up at Kris to assure her I was ok, and there resting in the rubble was a ladies shoe, it stood out because in Albania nothing useful is thrown away. Black and in apparently good condition but from it protruded a bone, not yet whitened by the Sun.  Shocked at what I had seen and having drawn the obvious conclusion that the rest of her was buried under that scree and rubble slope I started back up. Trying not to look at it I climbed back to the top. Trying to remain casual in case we were being watched I walked over to Kris who was looking out over the lake from the road, I remember saying ‘Kris, get in the car we are leaving’ she knew from my tone it was serious; as we drove away I told her what I had seen.

We left that place in a very sombre mood. There was nothing we could do and to mention seeing it could quite literally have got us killed. Northern Albania can still be a dangerous place. We prayed for her but could do no more.

Lake Skodra ah what a small place but so different, welcoming, friendly and some of the most fantastic lake trout and Talapia we have ever eaten. We decided to stay and were directed from the restaurant to a little house down the street who also worked as a hotel. Hotel might be stretching it, we were given one of the family rooms in their home and made to feel like welcome guests. There was a small restaurant attached which we decided was where we’d have our evening meal, Lake trout Albanian style gorgeous. We were introduced to the “cooker” (chef) who happened to be the mother of our waiter; she was so touched by our kind words about the food she promised to make us a special breakfast before we left next day. Luckily we managed to find out that the special breakfast was goats head stew, we politely declined but not until Chris had half a pint of fresh buttermilk and nearly half a pound of cheese with his jam and toast. They were very warm welcoming people who opened their home to us to make ends meet.

(Kris) When Chris returned the hire car there were several hundreds of miles on the clock and the owner was shocked to find out where we’d been, he said he thought we were just going to drive around the city. Wish I’d had a photo of his expression when reality hit.

Albania is a truly beautiful country; the mountains still have bears and wolves roaming them, lakes and rivers with deep green pastures. The people are warm and friendly, always willing to help a stranger in their land, they are also fiercely proud of their heritage, rightly so tracing their lineage and their native language back to a time before the Roman Empire.

We met so many people there we will never forget. One person I must mention is Dori (Dorita) she was working on reception at the hotel we first stayed at before we ‘broke out’ into the county after arriving. A very pleasant young lady engaged to an Italian. Our first morning at the hotel in Tarana we went into the restaurant and Dori asked Chris if she could “service him” taken aback but polite Chris said we would order breakfast (he was trying not to be too flattered). We then decided it would be best if I explained to her what she’d said as Dori wished to improve her spoken English. Once she understood the difference between ‘to serve’ and ‘to service’ and stopped laughing she said she now understood why some of the young business men had given her funny looks. She told her fiancée who thought it was hilarious. She was working to pay for her education and took every opportunity to practice her English, a habit that has remained the source of an on-going joke between us. That was the start of our friendship with Dori, she and her fiancée are now happily married with children. Although we were invited to the wedding it was too far to travel back from India to attend. Since that time we have stayed in touch and it remains a joke we often share.

While we were at the hotel we were lucky enough to witness an Albanian wedding taking place. The bride was beautiful in her traditional bridal gown; the groom in his suit looking proud and handsome.

(Chris) We were invited to join them in the celebration after I had asked the groom’s brother if it was alright for me to take photographs of the guests and bridesmaids in the national costumes. Some of the guests were Italian so conversation went something along the lines of, a bit of English, a bit of Albanian, a bit of Italian and a lot of mime! It was a very happy occasion, they were amazed when they learned that Kris and I had also only just married and were on our honeymoon.

In the end we were all wishing each other well and kissing brides and grinning bridesmaids, to this day we never got their names but they will always be part of ‘our Albania’.

As is traditional we gave them a wedding present of money to help them start their married lives and they took our photograph to remember the two ‘just married’ westerners they had met at their wedding.

We walked that evening across to a bar/restaurant across a foot bridge over the main highway outside our hotel we met three young men and talked to them as they had some English, it seems two of them had just got back from being deported from the UK for having no papers; they were not bitter about it and intended trying again, to be so desperate must be so hard, all they want is a decent life with enough money to live on. In Albania unemployment is very high. However there is hope, the tourist trade is picking up as this country is discovered by travellers. Foreign currency is beginning to get in for building projects and development. Crimes rates are low, but beware of insulting people; this is taken seriously and may result in four other brothers turning up in short order to defend family honour. As I said, a proud people, we liked them a lot.

If you have the opportunity then please visit Albania before it becomes another Mediterranean resort country for rich westerners. It is truly magical in places, and yes it must be said, horrendous in others, but if you are prepared to respect their pride and their fierce independence and accept that they are struggling to get out from under the poverty and lack of investment left by the old communist regime then you will be welcomed and have a wonderful time.

We travelled deep into the northern mountains on roads that were little better than tracks, huge drops with no barriers on the bends and missing tarmac every few hundred yards. Fantastic scenery, wonderfully warm friendly people but no road sense!

Then to the North West lakes, beautiful but polluted with a thick shoreline layer of plastic water bottles and general waste, as was every lake and ‘dump’ we saw. It was also here that we ate some of the best ‘lake trout’ I have ever tasted. Simply cooked in a steel tray drenched with herbs, garlic and vegetables it was beyond doubt as good as any fine hotel fare. 

Albania is struggling to join the 21st century, but has very little in the way of an

infra-structure with many seemingly random electricity cables strung through trees and across roofs. The same can be said for the intermittent water supply.

Buildings shooting up next to dilapidated road systems with little or no drainage travelled by donkey carts and seemingly mad car drivers. The whole scene can appear chaotic but somehow it works.

A note here, your most useful car accessory is without doubt ‘the horn’. Used to indicate all manner of manoeuvres such as ‘I am turning across you, look I am waving my arm at you’ or ‘I am over taking you’ (a long continues blast) but my favourite has to be without doubt, ‘Look out, coming through’ sometimes accompanied by flashing lights; you ignore the latter at your peril! This is a favourite tactic at junctions by the local taxis.

We travelled on an example of an Albanian major road as we were going North, we were driving on the main highway, two lanes of traffic doing about fifty mph when we saw coming towards us IN the breakdown lane a local car with its lights on using it as a short cut, this I stress is not unusual as we were to discover as we continued our travels.

Traffic officially travels on the right, or perhaps I should say traffic should travel on the right, it can rarely be counted on to do that so beware of blind corners, who knows what you might meet coming the other way with seemingly no regard for the rules of the road.

Some miles further on as we drove the tarmac stopped and the road became dirt for several miles then reverted to a tarmacked dual carriageway again, all without a single sign, nobody but me seemed bothered and just pressed on. I maintained an iron grip on the steering wheel and a fixed stare through the windscreen at the cloud of dust from the car in front.

I was told later that the road had been paid for by a grant by the EEC and that the money had run out at this point. By coincidence the road contractor has built a fine looking hotel not far from the road, intended no doubt to take advantage of the increased traffic.

Driving in Albania is an education in automotive survival skills, for anybody who has driven in Italy or France, trust me, Albania especially Tirana has to take the first prize for sheer madness. In the two weeks Kris and I were there I honestly think I can count on one hand the number of times I saw traffic lights obeyed. ’’Beep beep beep…..Coming through!”

We both knew that although we could serve God there, it wasn’t where He wanted us. So why did He send us? Kris and I both felt strongly that God was directing our footsteps but we couldn’t understand why we had felt we had to see Albania if it wasn’t here that God wanted us to work. We returned to the original hotel we had stayed at when we arrived after our travels about the country.

All too soon our time in Albania was over, we had enjoyed our time there and experienced a country we will never forget, we had met people that we still keep in contact with seen sights that inspired us and that three storey warehouse on the outskirts of Puke’ that sent shivers down our spines.

In Puke Kris had fallen in the shower (at this time she was still severely disabled and unable to walk far) and then smack into the edge of a door in the night when we changed rooms, I had fallen down a scree slope and ended up bruised and soar, we must have looked a strange site that day as we checked in again to our original “base” hotel, dirty, battered and bruised but both grinning and happy having had a truly eye opening adventure in mountains where strangers don’t go and Bears and wolves are still common.

We have fond memories of Albania and still keep in touch with friends we made there, but for us it was not where we felt we were meant to be. In a way this was a disappointment for us as we both thought God was sending us there for a purpose, he was, only it wasn’t the one we thought it was; as we would discover later.

One day we may go back but if we do it will be as holiday makers.

We had travelled to places we never knew existed, stayed in people’s homes and been treated as honoured guests by the families we had met for the first time in Albania.

We returned to the UK and went on with our lives, now somewhat confused by Gods message to go to Albania. We had arrived back home tired and bruised from a fall in the mountains on gravel slopes in my case, and in Kris’s case whilst taking a shower, Albanian style, hold the nozzle over your head and wash with the other hand while standing in a slippery bathtub. Our home church sends regular ‘missions’ to Albania to help support the churches there but we felt no desire to become part of that work.

We had really enjoyed our honeymoon in Albania but were both left wondering why God had sent us. Why send us then leave us wondering why?

We were happy to be home again after three weeks away.

Albania is a country that in a few years will be gone as the developers throw up their ‘budget’ hotels, restaurants and bars to part the tourists from their money. Gone will be the simple beauty and the trusting friendliness of the people, the warmth of genuine smiles of welcome, replaced by greed and pre packed Albanian souvenirs. Gone also will be the lack of clean water, education and health care will be developed, and there will be jobs for the young people, a general rise in the standard of living. They will join the European Community, become part of a conglomerate of European cultures, taking their place in a giant social experiment that in the authors opinion is doomed to failure for reasons too numerous to discuss here.

They will gain so much but something inside me warns of what they will also lose. I hope in twenty years’ time Fatos is still proud of his Tirana and his country, and can still make an honest living there.

 

Later that year we asked God for help and guidance, all we felt was that we were being sent “where you will do the most good”. For months we wondered and searched for an explanation but none came.

During this time Kris was healed by God of a degenerative illness and because she now could prove to the doctors that her illness was healing they agreed to give her titanium knees so she could walk with less pain. This was something she had been refused previously as they full expected her to be in a wheel chair soon as there is no cure for degenerative progressive spondylosis of the spine or osteo arthritis of the joints.

X- Rays showed the damage, the determination of her spine from the very first diagnosis that caused her medical retirement as a senior nurse up to her last examination that showed the steadily increasing damage.

There is NO doubt in our minds that this is God’s work and we were witnessing a true miracle.

The UK was the same for us, work we could do that no doubt would help others, but no word from God. Again our church does work in the community that we could have become involved with, evangelism, helping people in need through a ‘food bank’ scheme, and many other very worthwhile projects. There was plenty we could have done but nothing that truly called us.

We are both ‘people’ persons, we have lived lives that give us both skills that we can use to help people and perhaps encourage them to come to the lord. But there wasn’t that compulsion that we both believed God would give us when we found what he wanted us to do. We just had to have faith in Him and let His plan for us reveal itself to us in His time.

Faith; What can I say, if you take everything that has happened to Kris and I as coincidence then it would be a list as long as a toilet roll.

It has nothing to do with our faith really that list; it is just a list, so where do you stop calling it coincidence and admit that there must be a guiding hand? When Jesus saved me, for the first time in my life my eyes were opened and I could really see, I can’t explain it, you have to experience it for yourself.

We had prayed together asking for His guidance many times. As a young Christian I felt God having sent us to Albania and having been so clear in His message could have done a little better than ‘go where you will do the most good’. Perhaps a small hint? No, God was leading us but we had to follow in faith without any idea of His plan, perhaps it was meant to show us just that, we had to follow in faith.

We often tell people that we are in a small boat, we paddle Jesus steers, where we are going we don’t know but as long as we allow Jesus to steer we have nothing to fear. The problems occur when we stray from this, when we try to steer, then, confusion and misdirection rule our lives, this is when the dark one tries to stop us, give us doubts and fears we can’t handle. We argue we lose sight of where we are and who we are, we are alone. It is only when we come again through this storm that we cannot navigate and give control again to Jesus that we are safe, the bible says:

(Ephesians 6:16-24 English Standard Version (ESV))

16 In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; 17 and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, 18 praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, 19 and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, 20 for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.

Take up the Shield of faith, put our lives in His hands and no storm of man or the dark one can threaten us. This has not been an easy lesson to learn especially for me as I by upbringing and nature want to keep control and not trust anyone, in that I am wrong, I know it, but sometimes it can be so hard to just “step back” and take up that shield. Kris and I are never alone; we walk with Christ, where we are going I don’t know but some things have been revealed to us only in the last few days.

 while living in the UK Kris and I made the decision to completely give our lives to God. To live by faith in His guidance and to follow where He led.

It wasn’t a “snap” decision, in fact months passed until the moment we knelt holding hands and prayed and really committed ourselves body and soul to him we had come to where there was doubt and fear holding us back. From then on our path was clear to us. This is not to say we understood what or where our work lay, we didn’t, or that we didn’t suffer doubts and fear anymore, we did, but we held onto our faith and allowed Jesus to make our way straight, trust me, at times that wasn’t easy for either of us.

We have wondered many times why when we wanted to come to India for our honeymoon God clearly spoke to us independently that we should not, but that we should go to Albania. Why? That mystery would be answered, but not to us at that time.

After Kris’s first knee replacement, she has now had the other knee operated on as well) I had arranged a holiday in the sun for us, to help her get through what was a painful recovery, so of course we came to India.

We were on Holiday having arrived in Mumbai   we stayed at a little hotel near Crawford market, a Muslim family run business, they were so helpful to strangers in their country. We ate at the local ‘eatery’ where all the market traders ate. Saw our first Hindu film and many art shops and a few museums. Mumbai….we love that city.

We flew to  Udaipur, the city of the lakes in Northern India, Rajasthan.

We had visited Albania on our honeymoon and seen where there could be work for us but there but there wasn't the compulsion we both felt we would feel when we found where we were He wanted us to go.

We had also looked at working in the UK but nothing ‘fitted’, we prayed but no word other than ‘go where you will do the most good’ came to us until that day in Udaipur. Then we were truly answered. November 2011 in a park in India with Andrew (a friend and mentor) praying for guidance from God.

 (Chris)I came home knowing that Udaipur for me was now where I had to be, it took Kris about three days to admit it ‘I want some time to think’ for three days she was subjected to India wherever she looked. On TV ‘Top Gear from India’ then ‘Truckers’ yes, from India. So it went on until a bus passed her ‘Visit amazing India’ emblazoned along its side. She held my hand looked up and said ‘Ok God I give in, I get it’! We were going to India.

To list all the times the path we have walked to get here was smoothed flat by God would take more than I could write but let me put it this way. In December of 2012 Kris and I knelt and prayed, we said the words, we gave our lives to Jesus to do with as he chose, and we would follow where he led no matter what the cost to us as individuals. There was no doubt in our hearts, no limits set, only a deep desire to serve Him as He commanded. We have told many people who have asked that this relocation isn’t our idea or plan but God’s, some understand and bless us for our faith others think we have gone mad.

I clearly remember a neighbour remarking when he heard we were selling all of our possessions to give to the poor of India that ‘charity begins at home’ and we really must have cracked. I did my best to explain why, and maybe he understood a little better after that there is a higher purpose to this life than just getting all the money and possessions possible from it no matter the cost to your soul.

When Jesus chose his disciples he didn't say ‘Go home and sort out your affairs so you will be secure in the future, put your possessions in store and fill up your bank account’ He simply said ‘Come, follow me’, and in complete faith they did.

I tried to explain that to him, maybe I planted a seed there, and to this day I don’t know if he understood, I pray so.

In time we sold or gave away all we owned and the money raised from that, my book sales and the many many generous donations we received from individuals and churches raised the total far above our original target.

It all went to Panawar Boys Hostel in India, and make a real lasting difference to their lives and to the lives of other boys who will pass through that hostel in future years. To all who gave we cannot say how much your gift has meant to us, and to the boys at Panawar.

When we began selling our possessions prior to coming here we had never visited Panawar, there is no doubt in our minds that this is where the money will do the most good, those who know us have heard us say many times 'It was not our choice to donate to Panawar we were told to'.

We had never even seen the hostel but knew that God had told us to do it, just the same as he now leads us day by day and overcomes all in our path. That really is the story of our coming here to India, God spoke and we listened.

Friends have asked 'How did you know' what can I say, have you ever experienced a compulsion, a need so great that it dominates all your thinking, you can’t make plans or even go day to day without feeling it in your heart, it was like that for us it never let up.

Every obstacle to our coming here was removed, everything that we needed was provided. It was a year that always amazes us even to this day

 

(Kris) Finally the day of our departure from England came; it had not come without pain and stress, even doubt, but throughout God guided our way and stayed at our side.

At one point we were living in an empty house with no possessions other than a few basics, even the bed we were sleeping in had been sold.

We had applied for work visa’s but as the weeks passed and our possessions were being sold worry and doubt came and went, and still no visa’s.

A young couple we knew were thinking about God so one wet weekend we travelled 70 miles to take them to church where they lived and help them onto the path to salvation.

We wondered if this was why we had not yet received our Visa’s. Perhaps this had been why His timing wasn’t yet ours.

We had complete faith that God was guiding us so He was in charge.

There was no ‘plan B’ we were then and are now in God’s hands.

Even our own pastor was beginning to worry, what if?

(Chris) Sadly while we were waiting a very fine woman and mother of a great friend in the UK who had been suffering passed into God’s hands.

She had known the ‘old’ me and had seen the change in me. She had also read my book and on one occasion when I had visited her we had talked about Jesus in my life. She was an atheist and had been for as long as I had known her.On the day of her funeral our Visa’s came.

Something that surprised many people was that she had requested a minister perform the funeral ceremony, perhaps at the end she accepted and was forgiven into His arms. We both pray so.

Within a few days we were booked on a flight to India.Some tearful farewells, saying goodbye to friends of many years is not easy.We will miss you all but the joy we both feel now and on that day overcomes all.

We haven’t left; we have come at last to where we should be…..India

To those who have been here you will understand what I am trying to say, to all of you who haven’t yet visited all I can say is if you ever get the opportunity then take it and come, you will never regret it or forget the impact it will have on you.

It is said that India is an assault on the senses, I have to disagree, I have found it to be a huge expansion of your senses in the best way possible. You see more colour here, more smells (good and bad) more tastes, even the people are different from any I have ever met before. We are still struggling to understand the caste system and how it moulds people’s lives from birth to death, and yes if you are of a particular caste it is so hard to be anything but of that caste. We take for granted our freedom to change jobs and careers, not so easy for an Indian. Indian people we have met from a High Court lawyer (QC) our first landlord, to the woman who for Rs200 (£2.30p) a month sweeps our drive and takes away our rubbish have all been friendly and warm to us. 

Some are at first reticent or perhaps shy would be a better choice of word but as they get to know us they relax and then you are privileged to be given a genuine smile and a greeting when you meet again.

We are not the stereotyped English ex pats they seem used to, we never could be. Even the rickshaw drivers are learning we won’t pay tourist rates ‘WE LIVE HERE’ amazes them and given a little English and our small Hindi we are slowly being accepted.

 A quick word about the journey here: to ship three boxes of 30Kg each (all our worldly goods, including our Pc ‘The Beast’ (massive memory 13.5 TB and super-fast) and our coffee machine that Kris had bought me and her Magi mix food processer I had bought her.

Door to door we were quoted £900 by a Uk company. We did it ourselves for less than £400. It took us a while to sort out but it was certainly better than paying that much.

Air flight and customs import charges weren’t too bad we used a local agent (met him as we were getting lost and asking directions) he gave a few well-placed presents to various officials and our boxes flew through customs with only a cursory glance and minimal import duties.

At every stage of this journey we could see our path being cleared.

Friends at ‘Tree of life church’ Mumbai arranged an overland journey for us to Filadelphea College Udaipur 13hrs by road (they said) packed into an SUV but it was so worth it.

We saw country that we would never otherwise have seen, three major accidents and drank ‘chi’ at half a dozen different places, finally arriving at about 9pm after 15hrs on the road (NEVER drive at night here, nobody dips and many vehicles have NO lights) we had to borrow 2000Rs (£23) from Finny to pay the last costs of the driver, finally I found time to kneel and thank God for our safe arrival and for always being with us throughout.

We went to the flat we were being loaned (after hello to Janet H living at the college) and slept.

To be honest I don’t remember that night too well, but I remember the joy of the morning, waking to find it was real; we really had arrived at last.

Since then we have been out with Janet (who has been a star, helping us so much at this time) and with Mark and Elana for meals, we have also been out with Debi from PMF the NGO we will be working with who has also helped us so kindly even giving us some beautiful curtains for our new home.

(Kris) We had never intended to live at Filidelfia college so house hunting began in earnest.

Before we left the UK Chris had been in contact with several house agents here, one in particular has been fantastic throughout, not only helping us find a home but shops and suppliers we needed. He, Sumeet has become a good friend.

He charged a flat fee for his work as an agent but has gone far beyond that in helping us.

We have met his family and were privileged to be invited to his home.

He works with his brother and runs the business his father started and has all but passed on to them, his father still takes an active interest but the brothers do the day to day work of running the company.

They are a successful family, that we would regard as middle class having a large house and several cars and scooters but they are in no way arrogant about their good fortune, just grateful. We met Sumeets Mother, Grandmother, Wife, Sisters and a few I have no idea about!  The food was wonderful, course after course of ‘starters’  ‘try this, now this’ then the main course that all in all left us so full if there had been anything else we would have burst, wonderful hospitality indeed. Just think, Sumeets grandmother remembers when Britain ruled India; she has lived through her country under British rule, met Gandhi, then as an independent country, then through the pains of separation of Pakistan. She is 83, small and alert, if only I spoke Hindi what questions I would have for her, what stories she might tell.

(Chris) We found our first house here in Udaipur, it is a dream, detached three double bedrooms one downstairs that we shall use as Christine’s studio all on-suite, kitchen, a large lounge / diner, three story’s all in marble with white walls and cool rooms, garden front and rear (in need of work) two terraces from the upstairs bedrooms and a roof terrace that gives us a view of the surrounding hills. It is about 15 Kilometres outside Udaipur off the main road to Mumbai in what is known here as a colony, we would call it a private estate, quiet secure and off the beaten track. So began our life in India



Peter's birthday a quiet but fun affair, this was one of his party's we understand there were several. A few photos to give a flavour of the evening.









Geeta crashing out 
after dancing the night
away





















Comments from Kris

Geeta

March has been an emotional time for Chris and I, preparing Geeta for further surgery and praying her parents will come to be with her for the operation. Fortunately we managed to explain to Geeta’s mother the importance of her being there for Geeta and she agreed to come with her husband.

At the end of Feb I took Geeta to see her plastic surgeon Dr Palliwall, for review of her arm and hand. He wanted to admit her then and there for surgery later in the week but as her parents were in the village it was decided to do her pre operative tests prior to admission and she was admitted on the 3rd March where she had to have a Covid test prior to surgery. It was a long day standing in queues to get the Covid Test and then having to wait for the result before deciding which day she would have surgery, she had to have a negative test for the surgery to go ahead. After some hiccups getting the results she got a negative test result the morning of her surgery and went for her preoperative assessment the morning of the 4th , having been prepped and starved for surgery. It was a time consuming ordeal for Geeta and her parents as we went from one department to another before being sent up to the fifth floor where the theatre is. Geeta’s parents waited in the outer waiting area and Amba (Geeta’s aunt ) and I were with Geeta in the preoperative ward. After some time waiting several hours, it was Geeta’s turn and I was allowed in with her until they put her to sleep. Normally they don’t let anyone into the anaesthetic room but they allowed me. It was a relief to know they were looking after her and the place was spotless and calm.

Geeta was in surgery just under two hours then in postoperative care for a couple of more hours . At this point we did not know exactly what would be done as it pretty much depended on the state of her arm when they cut her open.

The operation was performed in stages and this first stage was to cut the inside of her elbow and open to approx. 90 degrees, unfortunately due to the damage to ligaments, muscles and blood vessels any further would have caused death to her arm from the hand to elbow. She had a further skin graft, skin taken from her left leg back and front. Now the hard work will begin once healing has taken place, the skin graft will heal in a few weeks but it will be months before Geeta gets full movement in her arm and it will all be down to her determination and hard work doing her physiotherapy. Geeta is mentally prepared for this and keen to get her dressing off, her goal is to ride a bike.

Unfortunately on 7th March my asthma became a problem and I got a chest infection so I ended up on nebulisers every four hours day and night and Chris had to nurse me as well as visit Geeta.

16th March Geeta back in surgery to remove and change dressing and do check of surgery, all appeared to go well and she was discharged on 17th March and to return for check up in 10-14 days as no clinic during Festival of Holi. The consultant was a little disappointed he could not give Geeta more movement in her arm but with perseverance, prayer and Geeta’s hard work I have no doubt we will get fuller movement. After all she had no movement in her shoulder or elbow when she came to us and prior to surgery she had full shoulder movement with minimal movement in her elbow due to the contracture.

Both Chris and I are still amazed at her determination and bravery her motto is never give up, she is an inspiration.  She is now home from hospital complete with backslab on her arm and the skin graft is healing day by day the dressing now removed. She has returned to her training and is looking forward to getting working on straightening that arm once healing has taken place.


Geeta post operative and still smiling along with her tiger

















Peppa pig and tiger keeping a close eye on Geeta


Chris attacking Geeta with her tiger










Chris's 70th Birthday celebration with a few close friends, we could not let it go without a good send off. I did most of catering myself with help from friends Mel, Peter and family, Pooja and Jasminder thank you all for your contributions. A few photo's to give a flavour of the evening.






















Geeta's 8th birthday, here's the cake before Kris dropped it. Geeta replied don't worry Mammy it will still taste good. Ah what an angel.






















It was a much quieter party as the covid cases had risen and we had positive cases two doors away, so we kept it withing our small bubble. We also wanted to protect Geeta's arm following her operation.  Geeta had a fabulous time we had burgers and chicken legs, salad and lots of other nibbles. Geeta's cousins joined in the fun too.



Making home made pickled onions, cabbage and Mediterranean tomatoes

Home made pickled red cabbage





The finished product tiring and time

consuming but worth it.



Homegrown tomatoes to make Mediterranean tomatoes

Easter
Preparation for Easter egg hunt, Geeta painting hard boiled eggs

 

we have yet to complete the hunt more on that next month, postponed as Chris's blood pressure very high and just commenced new medication. Chris wants to be the Easter Bunny hiding the eggs.


Well thats all from us here in a very hot Udaipur, Happy Easter and God Bless

Chris, Kris and Geeta.