Multiply Trip East Africa 2015 Day 1 August 11

I stayed overnight at New Creation Farm, as Monday afternoon and evening had been a national Leaders' event, and it was pointless hacking back to Sheffield.  It's a novelty to be getting a lift to Heathrow, as I usually catch a train.  Last time had been specially hectic because I'd miscalculated the time I'd need to travel, and then the service from Sheffield to Chesterfield was 'off-timetable' because of a landslip. 

There was the usual deluge of last-minute jobs, including swapping the 30 'Jesus Army' tee-shirt I'd bought (to give away), in favour of red crosses, because Len and the crew in Brighton had done some fund-raising and had the same idea.  Ian, at The Shop, couldn't have been more helpful.  I confess to having drifted off to sleep last night doing the mental arithmetic how many crosses at five for a pound I'd get with £33.

Viv rang at 9.30am announcing he was shopping in town and asking what he may need to get last-minute.  Two hours later he burst through the door of the Multiply office - where I'd set up camp with luggage spread all over the place, and I'd spilt my coffee in the process.  'Town' had been Northampton: he'd slept along the corridor from me. 

On Sunday, Janet had emailed to say she'd sent her cases ahead for Hilary to add some last minute extra stuff for the sewing project.  Yesterday morning, I caught Gregory on the phone.  He was unhappy with the posh hotel the guys in Kampala had booked for Saturday evening's 'business masterclass'.  "Unnecessary.  The church where we're holding the main two days will do fine."  Looks like we're up against the same capital city mentality that we met in Lusaka last year, where if you don't lay on a four-course lunch people don't bother to turn up - they don't think your network's up to much (and that type usually slopes off mid-afternoon, anyway).  In the leaders time yesterday, Hilary had texted to say the outstanding amount of our budget that she'd converted to dollars at a commercial rate had arrived in both large and small bills - which may not suit the exchange bureaux.  Another job (for her).

And I'd hardly got through the door this morning when Hannah reminded me to get a team photo for the Multiply website: only doing her job.  Claire just wanted to know if I was excited.  Exhausted, more like. 

When I rang home, Mary was her usual calm self.  She will feature in one of the conference presentations when I remind folks that Jesus looks for disciples who mend nets.  She told me that, "I wouldn't recognise the bedroom" when I get home.   

This theme of changing landscapes is recurring.

May 2015 and AMEN comes round again

I must have been slow off the mark when the Multiply planning team chose to hold a meeting in the office that I share.  My name appeared on the minutes, and I was co-opted into the monthly agenda.  Or maybe it was my mild protest when Huw said we wouldn't be holding an event on the opening Saturday of the Conference week, even though that was the focal point in the Church diary.  "You can't do that, Huw.  The guys will have travelled here with that date in mind.  Ed and I will be happy to sponsor an informal Welcome/Reception event for them." 

Apostolic Men Empowering the Nations is our catchy title for the main leaders of the International Network.  They each operate in clutch of countries.  Regular readers of this blog will have met Gregory (Kenya), Steven (Zambia) and Rukundo (Rwanda) from my trips to East Africa, and Colney from India.

I usually stay at Kings House throughout the week's deliberations.  But the saints there moved to Coventry in April.  This year I'm toggling my time between Kings-in-Coventry and the Farm.  But the story starts at Cornerstone in Birmingham.  I'd planned to stay one night en route to a family Trust get-together in Cheltenham.  This AGM fulfills the legalities surrounding Mary's aunt's inheritance money, which got invested in a tax-efficient pot that can't be touched for twenty years. 

"Rukundo arrives at Birmingham at 9am," Mick announced after Thursday tea.  "And Steven's landing at Heathrow at 6am.  So we'll have them both here tomorrow."  'Tomorrow' Mary was catching a train from Sheffield, and Mick and I would collect her from Cheltenham station. 

Friday morning, just as I greeted Rukundo with an unpolished "Habari ya asubuhi", Mary texted to say the train was an hour late leaving.  No matter, Mick and I headed down the M5 as planned, and parked near the Italian eatery that Tony proposed for lunch. 

Actually, it was worse than that.  Mary booked her journey with our common purse pre-paid 'plastic', and only collected the sales receipt - not her tickets - from the station machine.  She'd nearly been thrown off the train, and had had to fork out an extra £16 to get from Birmingham New Street.  It wasn't for the first time this week that I commented, "We seem to be battling with the 21st Century and losing."  Maybe my 70th birthday on Tuesday made me uncustomarily defeatist.  I'd just loaded a forkful of Penne al Gianni when Mary rang to say she'd arrived.  Then the frustration of Cheltenham's one-way system.

Later, back at Cornerstone, Steven had arrived.  We sat together for tea.  Rukundo declined to give Steph's guide-dog his apple core.  Ah, cultural tides.  We chatted about Tanzania, the current political unrest in Burundi and children's school books.  Then the household gathered for their weekly prayer time.  They were keen that Saturday afternoon's 'bluebell barbecue' should go well.  I made a mental note to book the four of us in for lunch at Cornhill, ahead of the planned Reception.  After their overnight flights, the guys headed gratefully for an early night in bed.