Tag Archives: direction

Apr8

Post 39. Tony? Tony who?

Posted on by
Standard

Oh, Tony Johnson!   I only knew one Tony. He was the cute Kiwi boy.  I had heard his amazing story at conferences and he sang really well.  He was Robin Glass’s best friend.  Robin was the funny, tall, curly-haired, Brazilian/English guy.

I was living in Liverpool, waiting for the ship to arrive.  It had been weeks since I was on the ocean and I missed it.  I wondered about Tony.  What would it be like seeing him, knowing what I had heard?  Why would he be interested anyway?

The ship arrived and it was busy.  No time to sit around thinking about love and romance.  I was up and down the gangway, taking care of people who thought they were important and making sure they were fed and shown around.  I didn’t see Tony at all.

Late one night as we were leaving the ship, I heard someone playing a guitar and singing.  We walked around the corner and it was Tony.  He smiled so I stopped and commented on the stars.  He asked how things were going and I told him.  A lot happened that night and we hadn’t even broken the five minute rule.

He had been observing me for months.  We had a joint girls and guys Bible Study and we had talked about marriage.  I had made a comment something like, “When I get married I am going to love my husband more than anyone else in the world.”  Tony could not imagine being loved that way.  He wanted to volunteer.  On another occasion I spoke with the shipmates about something that was going on in my life.  He liked my honesty and vulnerability.

Over the next few months, there were occasions when we had short conversations.  A few times we found ourselves at the same dining room table, talking about the weather with 6 other people.

My two years on the ship was up.  I had stayed on 6 months extra to do the PR work on land.  It was time to go home.  I was visiting one of the families and Tony happened to be fixing their door lock.  He was invited to join us for tea and that was when we had our last and longest conversation.

Tony:  So what are your plans?  What will you do when you leave the ship?

Me:  (With a smile on my face) I am going back to South  Africa to marry a pastor.  What about you?

Tony:  I am going back to India.  That is where I am called to be.

The conversation went on.  He had never considered being a pastor and I had never considered living in India.  We were both so confident about where we were going and they were opposite directions.

It was time for me to leave the Doulos; my home for two and a half years.  My aunt and uncle had come to pick me up in Hull and they were taking me to their place in Kent.  I walked around for the last time, saying tearful goodbyes to the kids and their parents and all the amazing friends I had made.

As I was walking out of the door, Tony came up the stairs in his overalls looking very flustered.  We said goodbye and I walked down the gangway.

On the road again.

On the road again.

The ship sailed away and I stood on the quayside waving goodbye and crying my eyes out.  Tony was there and we waved and smiled.  I knew where he was going and he knew where I was going.  We had no idea how we were ever going to see each other again, but we knew we would.

Little did I know that Tony had been running around the ship trying to find a leader to get permission to ask if he could speak to me.  He had left it too late.

Little did I know that Tony Johnson was asking God if I could be his wife.

Mar25

Post 28. Moo Hills

Posted on by
Standard

I had itchy feet.  Rigby and Sue had left for Bible College and I needed to get out.  Youth for Christ was running a year programme called Y-1 so I decided to sign up.

I travelled with Rig and Sue to Half Way House,  to a cute little farm called Moo Hills.  That was to be my home for three months.   There were 30 young people full of life and energy, ready to take on the world.  I would be away from my home for a year.  It sounded like a life time.

Our dorms were converted cow sheds and it was very earthy.  Each room had 6 bunk beds so we lived in each other’s pockets and all kinds of lessons were learnt.  It was there that I learnt how to hand wash and iron my clothes. I really missed Val.

We dreaded the 6 am morning trumpet call.  It was loud and right outside our dorm.  I had sung many songs about an angel with a trumpet and people disappearing.  I was always relieved to see that it was just Johnny.

It was my first experience living with people who weren’t “white South Africans.”   Alistair Lowe from Rhodesia was no relation but he was a brother to me. On our weekend off he came to stay with us at No 28.   It was a first for my family too.  He was hilarious.

We had rules at Moo Hills.  Lobo the dog was not to be fed, lights out at 9, only one slice of bread after meals, no relationships between the sexes allowed and absolutely NO physical contact.  All those rules were broken,  but not much went unnoticed by Charlie and Wendy Paine and Sean Daly.

Lobo got fatter and fatter and so did we.  We talked way into the night.  One night we had a brilliant idea.  We lay on our bunks with our feet up against the wall.  On the count of three we stomped as hard as we could.  The girls in the dorm next door thought it was an earthquake and ran out onto the field in their pyjamas. It was freezing.

The girls joked that if ever we wanted some physical contact, we could go to Sean for a haircut.  Only if we were guilt free.  Once he got us under the scissors he would ask how we were doing.  We were convinced he could see right though us.  We didn’t have haircuts that often.  We heard that Alistair, when under the scissors and the stare, couldn’t take the guilt anymore and bellowed out, “Ok, ok, I fed Hobo!”

At the end of our three months of discipleship training, we were put into teams.   The music team needed a sound mixer so I auditioned.   Thanks to Wilf I had a pretty good ear and I got the “job.”

It was an intense three months of early mornings, excercise, study, kitchen duty, learning how to live and so much about loving God and others.

We packed our bags and jumped into minivans for our 9 months of road travel.  What we had learnt at Moo Hills was going to be tested.  We were going to find out if what we had learnt was going to work.  Or not.