Vacare Deo

Here, surrounded by vistas of Middle Earth, I am feeling a certain affinity to Bilbo Baggins.

“This hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the neighbourhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him. This is a story of how a Baggins had an adventure, and found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected. He may have lost the neighbours’ respect, but he gained—well, you will see whether he gained anything in the end.” 

So, here I am in New Zealand, enjoying stunning scenery; peace and stillness; time to read and reflect; crazy, fun-loving community; the wonders of creation; good food, good wine (though with an enforced abstinence at the moment – Ngatiawa is open to all sorts of people from the communities of Urban Vision, including, at times, people recovering from addictions); and much, much more.

So where is this journey taking me?  The past three years have been such an incredible journey: I have gone from being a fit, active ‘young’ man at the peak of my career, carrying huge responsibilities, with a wonderful, settled family, through a stroke/TIA, Helen’s death, first Esther and now Joe moving away to University, completing a major national research study, two of my closest colleagues leaving Warwick Medical School, deciding to close down the Masters course I was running…

I have had to learn to slow down, to take life at a gentler pace.  For the first time in my career I have taken time off sick.  I’ve cut back my hours to a more normal full-time job (why did I not do that during all the preceding years with Helen?).  I’ve trained myself to walk slowly, reduced my average driving speed by 5-10mph, and learned to say ‘no’ far more.  At the same time, I’ve felt myself going much deeper – with myself, with others and with God.  I’ve loved the times of silent retreat I’ve been able to take at St Beuno’s in North Wales, my quiet space each morning, walks in the park and by canals with Neo, and a more contemplative approach to my own spiritual journey.  I think I have changed.  In many ways I feel I am living life even more fully than before.  I have been through periods when tears have been my companion, day and night.  I’ve felt the gut-wrenching agony of grief.  And the more gentle acceptance that I’m not always in control, nor my life always neat and tidy.  And I’ve learnt once more to laugh and smile.  To have fun with friends, to sit and enjoy a quiet glass of wine, or an evening of laughter in the pub.  In all of this, I have been so very aware of just how blessed I am.  Of the love and support of so many friends.  Of the pride I feel in two wonderful children.  And of the privileges I experience day on day.

I planned this sabbatical last Easter while visiting Asia with Esther and Joe.  I had considered all sorts of options, and it really felt as though coming to New Zealand and Ngatiawa was the right thing for me at this stage.  I felt I needed a place of peace and security in which to refresh and recharge, and time to explore what this next phase of my life might look like.  Over the ensuing months, and as I’ve spent time here at Ngatiawa, two priorities have dominated my thoughts: hospitality (of heart and hearth) and stillness (of body, mind and spirit).

Hospitality in the sense of being available for people, spending time with family and friends, investing in relationships – it seems to me nothing can be more important than that; to both give and receive friendship and love.  I know I haven’t always done that well, and I’m sorry that, in the busyness of my life, my friends and family so often get neglected.  I will need help, and for others to hold me to account, but I hope that I can make that a priority over this next stage of my journey.

Stillness seems to be such a rare gift in our frantic lives.  But I have been so blessed in the places of stillness I have been able to find over these recent years.  So I find myself wanting to go deeper, to explore the depths of silence; to know myself, to know God, and to appreciate this amazing world we live in.  And I want to be able to bless others with something of the same.  It seems to me that so many people long for some peace – whether that stems from the busy lives they lead, or from violence, abuse, grief, anxiety.  And this, too, is something I can receive from other people.

And now for the unexpected, surprising bit of the journey.  As I have been travelling down this road, I have discovered an unexpected and rather wonderful companion who seems to share the same dreams and passions, and who also has been moving into a new phase of her life.  Lois Baldwin (the lovely Lois) is a longstanding friend of ours through Servants.  In fact, it was Lois who, unwittingly, started me on this more contemplative path by introducing me to St Beuno’s after she spent three months there in 2009 following the break-up of her marriage.  Helen had known her well and done a lot with her over the years in Servants.  Lois had actually been with Helen during her final two weeks in Manila and had been a huge blessing to her during that time; she then came over to the UK later in 2012 to tidy up Helen’s work with Servants UK and internationally.  Since then, Lois and I have vaguely kept in touch and, over recent months found an increasing connection with each other in our emails and Skype conversations.

So in the few weeks leading up to my departure, my sabbatical started to take on a very different shape.  After a week together in Auckland, Lois has joined me here at Ngatiawa, where we are both spending time engaging in the community life here, each finding time to do our own thing (so keeping with my original sabbatical goals), and spending time together in a supportive, wholesome environment.  And so it was that last Friday evening, we found ourselves walking along the deserted sands of Waikanae beach, the waves gently caressing the shore, and the warm southern sun slowly sinking below Kapiti Island, and Lois agreed to marry me (well actually, it was rather cold and blowing a bit of a gale, and dark grey clouds obscured the sun, but she did still agree to marry me!)

So perhaps, like Bilbo, I have found myself doing and saying things altogether unexpected, but it does feel as though I have set out on a rather wonderful, exciting and new adventure.