(I know for some what I'm about to say doesn't seem like that big of a deal. But for me, personally, finding true, biblical hospitality, love, and fellowship with other Christians who are otherwise complete strangers is a tremendous joy.)
Upon arriving at the Pierre-Powell home in London, Patrick welcomed me in and showed me around. Then we spent a little time getting to know one another. One of the reasons I enjoyed the conversation was the very fact that I was sitting in his home with my backpack unpacked, already having seen where I'd be sleeping, where the bathroom was located, etc., and yet just then actually getting to know one another. That's one of the reasons that it stands out in my mind as such a great example of Biblical Christianity. Ayo - a brother in Christ whom I barely knew to begin with - wanted to bless me with a place to stay to allow me to layover in London for a couple of days to visit the local church family. When he couldn't fulfill the need himself due to unforeseen circumstances, he simply asked another brother from yet another local church family if he could help meet the need of a Christian brother whom he had never met or heard of, and voila! There I was. What a blessing.
After a while Sarah came home with their youngest son. A bit later we were eating some delicious Indian food and having a great time getting to know one another around the dinner table. We stayed up rather late talking and planning out the next day, and then I went to bed; blessed, full, and very tired.
Saturday morning I woke to a warm and happy home. Sarah was very thoughtful and offered to make whatever I'd like for breakfast. As usual, I told her that if it starts with an 'f', ends with a 'd' and has an 'oo' in the middle, then I'll eat it! Seeing that I was trying to be an easy and flexible guest, she quickly conjured a common American stereotype and applied it to the situation: she offered to make pancakes. She even had a box of 'Hungry Jack' brand pancake mix that another American friend had brought to them as a gift (which made me laugh of course). I was very pleased, and I'm sure I furthered the common belief that all Americans love pancakes for breakfast. The funny thing is that I'm enthusiastic about having pancakes for breakfast for the simple reason that I rarely do! So we ate a delicious breakfast together before heading off to fulfill our various schedules.
While Sarah and Patrick had their own commitments to keep, I walked over to the bus stop (after Patrick gave me his Oyster card and helped me to load some money onto it), and caught the 176 north to London's city center (Picadilly Circus to be exact). When the bus came I saw that it had a second level and immediately decided to ride up top. It wasn't one of those double-decker tour buses with an uncovered second level; just a regular public transport bus that was two stories high, so I figured I could see more and take some pictures from up top. It wasn't until about five minutes after the bus pulled away that I realized I had left my camera at my hosts' home! Typical.
The bus stopped what seemed to be every single block, so the ride took a bit. Along the way I took "mental pictures" of the various burroughs of London, the River Thames, the various bridges across the River Thames, the people, the architecture, etc. About fifty minutes later I arrived at my destination, which is basically "downtown" London. That's where I met Ayo, my guide for the day. He walked around London with me and tried to point out a few sights. After being in East Africa alone for so long, I really just needed koinonia, so we mostly just talked a lot and encouraged one another in spiritual things as we walked around the city. As much as I love history, architecture, and other cultural things, that day, those hobbies took a back seat to my desire for good friends and fellowship, which worked out well for Ayo. (I love you fam, but you're a terrible London tour guide!) He did take me to a museum to show me some ancient something-or-other from the Biblical Book of 1 Chronicles. But after getting lost in the museum looking for it (literally), we finally asked one of the museum employees and were told that we were at the wrong museum. Afterwards, we actually did manage to find Buckingham Palace (if he would have failed that one I would have reported him and asked that he be deported).
We sat outside of the biggest house I've ever seen for quite a while (Buckingham), talking and sharpening one another, and then meandered back to where we started. Then we took the Tube to Tower Hill and walked to another brother's place over by St. Catherine's Wharf. His name is Alistair, and he and Tim and Dan all met up with us at the market where we bought groceries to cook up for dinner. We took the supplies back to Alistair's house (his wife was gone), and then Tim, Alistair, and Dan whipped up a killer dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, hamburgers, salad, and rolls, which we ate out on the balcony facing the garden courtyard. The food was so good (kudos especially to Tim), but more importantly, the fellowship was great. I needed it so much. After dinner we had a time of worship and then we had communion together, which they asked me to lead. Then we topped off the night with cake and coffee/tea. It was such a great time.
When it was time to go, Dan (an American who has been living in London for about two years now) escorted me via bus back to East Dulwich. He told me it would be no problem. He said we'd jump on the 100 bus to 'Elephant and Castle' and then take the 185 to East Dulwhich. As we rode along on the bus we got to talk and learn more about one another. After a bit I realized the bus was stopped and nobody else was on the bus. So I asked Dan how much further it was. He said, "I think it's the next stop." Then he realized the bus wasn't moving and walked to the front to ask the driver. He sheepishly told me, "This is our stop." It was funny. Then we walked over to the other bus stop to catch the 185 (according to Dan). When we got there I noticed that the sign listed several different buses, none of them the 185 that Dan mentioned. I pointed out the correct bus to Dan and then spent the rest of the trip harassing him about how he was supposed to make sure I got back okay and couldn't even get there himself without my help. It was a little funny.
The next morning was church. I walked with Patrick over to the school where Calvary Chapel South London meets. It was so reminiscent of Grace Chapel in the early days: meeting in a school, going early to set up the chairs and the sound system, getting the children's ministry ready, etc. It was like being transported back in time about seven years. The service was great, and family of Christ was so welcoming. They even asked me to come up and share briefly about who we are and what we're doing in Tanzania.
After church, we hung around and had fellowship for some time. Since Ayo fellowships at Calvary Chapel Docklands and Patrick and his family had to go to a relative's house after service, they had arranged for a "babysitter" for me - Peter Beggs. Pete is a great brother. We walked together from the school to a nearby bus stop, planning to take a couple of buses to the home of Mark and Tabitha Fyffe for food and fellowship. We waited at the bus stop for a bit but Pete seemed a bit confused about whether it was the right one or not. We then decided to walk a ways to another bus stop, nearby the Pierre-Powell's home. We got there and Pete told me where we were going and the bus we were waiting for. When I looked at the bus stop sign it didn't jive with what Pete was saying, but he assured me that we were in the right place and that it only looked confusing because the bus turned around nearby. We waited... and waited... and waited. I eventually convinced him to look at the bus stop accross the street where the buses were headed in the other direction (the direction that looked right according to my reckoning). He reluctantnly crossed over with me and I showed him the map on this stop and how it looked to be the correct direction. Just as I was convincing him of this our bus arrived and we boarded. That was the second time now that I'd had to help one of my hosts to help me find my way around. It was such fun to harass them all about it.
We arrived at the Fyffe's home, where they were celebrating their oldest son's 16th birthday. It was so much fun. I met a bunch of people from the church again and a few others that I hadn't yet met. The food was awesome! A new brother named 'Jack' (real name withheld for privacy) had made most of it and it was really, really good. We had curry goat, jerk chicken, fried plantains, some other stuff, and most importantly, homemade mac and cheese. "Jack's" mac and cheese was honestly the BEST I've ever had, and I let him know about it. He had just come to live with the Fyffe's five days earlier after having been on the streets and addicted to alcohol. Mark and some other brothers met "Jack" on the streets and told him about Christ. After "Jack" repented and called upon Christ as Lord and Saviour, Mark offered him shelter and the opportunity for fellowship and encouragement until he got back on his feet. (As of the writing of this blog, "Jack's" health is in jeapordy. He has quit drinking and his body is having a severe reaction to the change. He had been consuming massive quantities of alcohol, and quitting has resulted in seizures and hospitalization. Please pray for this dear brother.) We stayed at the Fyffe's all day, listening to music, talking, playing games, eating food, and otherwiase having great koinonia. Patrick came and picked up Ayo and I that night and took us back to his place for my last night in London. We stayed up and talked for a bit and then I hit the sack.
Early the next morning Patrick took Ayo and I to Victoria Station where we could catch the "tube" or London Underground to Heathrow. It was nice to have the escort but Ayo and I were so tired that we both pretty much slept on the tube while listening to music. There was nearly a third incident of my local escort needing my help to make the correct transfer at one of the stations, but Ayo caught his own mistake just as I was about to say something. It was still comical how often it happend in the course of two days though.
I made it safely to Heathrow, boarded, and got safely back to California where a good friend picked me up at LAX and drove me down to San Diego where my wonderful wife and children were waiting for me. The night before leaving I told Ayo and Patrick the honest truth: I missed my family more than anything, but I was enjoying the family of Christ in London so much that I wished that Carrie and the kids could come to London to be with me rather than me having to leave London to be with them in California. I truly pray that the Lord gives us the opportunity to visit the body of Christ in London as a family some day in the future.
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