One step at a time ....

And so the adventure with God began. Graciously He had gone before us. When I mentioned the Coffee Morning to my next door neighbour, I discovered that not only did she share my faith, but that she would be delighted to come and make the coffee. Ethel recruited Mary, a toddler loving friend, whose own children were at school, and we bought a bargain box of mugs. We were in business!




For two years we jogged along happily, meeting fortnightly during term time. There were a few ‘interesting’ moments. One morning the speaker’s daughter managed to lock herself in the downstairs toilet, and had to be rescued by me squeezing through the open window, while her mother chatted happily to the assembled guests, completely unaware of the excitement in the hall. We hung the key on a hook on the wall after that!


The children did get sick occasionally. All of my three contracted chicken pox, and spent the morning tucked up in our double bed, while I ran up and down stairs for a visit every few minutes, and were none the worse for the experience. But nothing obvious HAPPENED spiritually until Doreen came to speak to us.


She had come to faith eight years after she was married and her husband was deeply unimpressed by this new passion in her life. She told us about the ways this personal relationship with Jesus had impacted her marriage, and her audience hung on her every word. We always had an opportunity for questions, but normally our guests just chatted among themselves. Not on that occasion. She was bombarded with questions.


‘What do you do about the children?’ asked one.


‘I’d love to have a faith but I’m afraid of what it would do to my marriage!’ said another.


‘What do you do about going to church when he wants to go out for the day?’


‘My husband reckons that the church is just after your money. I don’t have any money of my own so how could I give?’


On and on the questions flowed until finally I asked the assembled company ‘Isn’t there a book that looks at marriage from this perspective?’


‘Oh no!’ they assured me ‘All the books on marriage we’ve seen, assume that you share your faith.’


They just haven’t looked in the right place, I thought to myself. But when I began to research the subject I found it was true. There was one book available from the US at that time called ‘Unequally yoked Wives’ with a rather unhelpful cover decorated with chains, and that was that.


‘You write a book for these women’ God whispered.


‘How can I?’ I protested, not really believing what I was hearing ‘Gordon and I were both Christians when we got married. What do I know about such a challenging situation? Anyway I write fiction for children, not adult non-fiction.’


‘Step out in faith and I will help you’


It was another ‘I am sending you to Pharaoh’ moment. I wriggled and struggled but this time I wasn’t quite so slow to respond, even thought I hadn’t the slightest idea how to set about it..

Excuses,Excuses,Excuses

I argued with God about it all summer.

“But Father “I prayed “most people think that talking about you belongs in church.”

“What did Jesus do? God whispered.

I thought about that for a while. There’s no doubt that Jesus often taught in homes and that one of his most powerful encounters was while he was just sitting by a well when his disciples went shopping. [John 4.] We don’t have any wells where I live but there are supermarkets where women gather. I shuddered. A coffee morning sounded easier.

“But Father “I said “who would I ask? And what would I say?”

“Trust Me. I’ll point you to the people and give you the words.”

“But Father we have 6 children under 5 years old between us. You know what it’s like in winter. What if they get sick? We’d have to cancel.”

“Trust Me.”

“Who could we find to run a creche and make the coffee?  We’d need two people without children … and anyway “I pointed out, clinching the argument. “ I wouldn’t have enough cups!”

The summer slipped by and I kept pushing all thoughts of coffee mornings to the back of my mind. Then, for the first time ever we went to stay with my sister in her London flat, and were able to attend Westminster Chapel, one of London’s famous churches, There was no crèche for the Sunday morning service so my husband took the children for a walk while I stayed to hear the sermon.

The reading from Exodus 3 and 4 was uncomfortably familiar. As I listened to the reasons Moses advanced for not being the person to confront Pharaoh, I heard my own voice. I squirmed uncomfortably as Moses pleaded ‘Lord please! Send anyone else!’

“Ok! I get the message” I prayed rather ungraciously “but You’ll have to do it Lord, because I can’t see how it will work.”

So I went home and Ethel and I started putting the arrangements into motion. I had no idea then that that grudging step of obedience would set my life on a new path.

Come back next week to find out how it happened.