Tag: life

Life In Community

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel9 Comments
The Mosbach team outside the mill building, May 1983
(Yes I am in there somewhere!)

It was at the end of July 1982 that I arrived in what was then West Germany. Coming from the Middle East where I had been representing the ship MV Logos in line up. My destination was the town of Mosbach in Baden Württemburg. It was to join the Operation Mobilisation (OM) Ships headquarters team that was based there. At that time OM owned and operated another ship, the Doulos. The HQ served to coordinate the activities and needs of both these vessels. Some 40+ years later it still serves that purpose though the vessels have changed. HQ staff included marine engineers, deck officers, personnel and finance people. Also others like myself who didn’t fit in to a specific category. I came not knowing how long my stay would be. This was in keeping with my peripatetic life at that time. In the event Mosbach became my home for over a year. 

Perhaps against expectations for a HQ overseeing 2 ocean going ships Mosbach was inland. Nowhere near a port or the coast. However good rail and road connections meant international hubs like Frankfurt were not too far away. Along with those working to service the ships there was also another team that was part of OM Germany. Both teams worked on the same site. The buildings were part of an old mill situated beside a tributary of the river Neckar which ran through the town. During my time there there was quite a bit of renovations done, especially in the main building. As I recall the combined ships and German team, including families and children, was about 85 people. To make team life happen required cooks, cleaners, mechanics to service the pool of cars used for personal and team use. Most important and needed of all were people with servant hearts. Those who oiled the rough edges exposed by life in community.

The team consisted of singles, married couples and children. Most families lived off site but would join for team meals when possible with the rest of us. I, along with other singles, lived in the old mill building where the dining room was. My roommate for several months was a fellow Scot. 

For several years I had been part of a Christian community on the ship MV Logos. Living in the Mosbach team was another type of community. There were differences. One was floating in a confined space – mobile, with its own, autonomous shipboard culture. I had been privileged with often living onshore but for those crew mostly living onboard exposure to life in the ports and countries visited was limited. Mosbach in contrast was a land based team that was also an integral part of the town and German society. Though different, life in each type of community had common ingredients. One of the ‘common ingredients’ (no pun intended!) were meals together. Also learning to share property, resources and facilities. Such challenges would often mean the need to forgive and put others’ interests first. Not easy.

The OM Ships Director had asked if I would come to Mosbach and, amongst other things, help in the day to day running of this dual team. It would be very unlike my recent job of jumping from country to country representing the Logos. It was a catch all job. Everything from coordinating the team study programme to the practicalities of group team life. Most private and work related conversations were in English. However the dominant nationality was German. It was a struggle to pick up enough German. I had a crash course of 2 – one hour sessions/ week. One task was to sometimes make team announcements at lunchtime. They were usually done in German. This I find astonishing to believe. Nowadays I can hardly think to string more than a few German words together. 

Another role was to take church meetings throughout the country. This was usually to share about the work and vision of OM Ships. Encouraging people to pray for our worldwide work as well as trusting that the meetings would bring in recruits and resources. 

“In recent months in Germany it has been a privilege to take part in church and youth meetings in the countryside. Last weekend a team of four of us visited a Lutheran church in a small village called ‘Geroldsgrun’. It was thrilling to see how the youth (aged 14-30) were interested in serving the Lord. A sobering experience was to visit the nearby East German border and to be reminded of the realities of the ‘ Iron Curtain’. The border ran right through the middle of a village and on the East German (DDR) side a huge placard read ‘USSR and DDR united for all time’.
How grateful I am to be free.”

Extract from a letter to friends, Jan 1983

Strangely, I remember more about going to and from meetings than the meetings themselves. We would at times travel maybe 300km just to go to an evening event. Then return back to base in Mosbach that same evening. Made possible by the fact that West Germany had a superb autobahn (motorway) system. At that time most people seemed to drive on the autobahn as fast as your vehicle could safely travel. The upper speed limit didn’t seem to be defined. This apparent recklessness was mitigated by terrific discipline for when there was signed speed limits. That is, if the autobahn stated 100 kilometres/ hour (kph) speed limit people would drive at that speed. Another ‘safety’ feature was wide lanes. 2 lanes seemed as wide as 3 on a UK motorway. Made overtaking much easier and safer. However there was also strict lane discipline. The outside overtaking lane was only for overtaking. Not for cruising along! It was dangerous to ‘loiter’ in the outer lane at, say, 130kph. Watch out for that headlighted Porsche, a mere dot in your rear screen mirror. It would likely be right behind you in seconds going well over 200kph!

When not on the autobahn it was often a pleasure to travel more sedately through well kept villages. Their presence often heralded by the ubiquitous village church spire piercing the horizon. Between the communities lots of arable and green fields.   

Meetings had been arranged for us with ‘old’ folks, young folks and everyone in between. It was a blessing to see the great interest in international Christian work. It was also a joy to breathe the rather ‘fresh’ Alpine air. We stayed at a Christian work which had an orphanage, a home for alcoholics and a home for those with Down’s syndrome. It was a touching work of compassion founded by an Italian Countess.

Extract of a Mar 1983 report to friends about a week’s visit to south Austria.

Travelling to meetings wasn’t all about the driving. Coming home to Mosbach late at night it was nice to stop at highway restaurants and partake of ‘Weiner Schnitzel’ – a breaded meat cutlet. Speaking of food, another nice German tradition was a relaxed Sunday afternoon coffee and cake. Usually in conjunction with a walk in the countryside or in the forest. Sundays in those days were relatively quiet. Heavy goods vehicles were not allowed to travel on the autobahn on Sundays. Each state or municipality had different rules as to what you could or could not do on certain days. Some areas forbade washing cars whereas in others it was permitted. Whatever, it made Sundays generally a peaceful day of rest which I appreciated. 

Given the town’s strategic location at the heart of Europe the team at Mosbach was often hosting members of the worldwide team of OMers. They would pass through from all points of the compass. Sometimes we had over 100 visitors / month. 

Another role I had been assigned was to help an Argentinian colleague. Spend time with him, share life, help him with his English. It is encouraging to know that he went on to fulfil major leadership roles with the church in South America. 

I am grateful to the Germans I came to know. Their great strengths of collective and individual discipline. To share life with devoted, hard working and servant hearted people. Practically showing their love for Jesus by their service. It wasn’t all roses. As with any group of people there were misunderstandings and disunity. To pretend otherwise would be false. However I know I received more than I gave.

40 years later times have moved on. Mega events such as the healing brought about by the fall of the Berlin Wall and German reunification. Also the disturbing recent geopolitical realities of a war in Europe. I and those with whom I shared life with then have also changed and moved on. What hasn’t changed is that nowadays, as then, the personal call is to live in hope. Like Abraham…

“For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God”.

Hebrews Ch 11 verse 10 (New International Version)

Towards the end of my stay a certain Elisabeth came from Sweden to visit. It’s a long story.

Coming, Going and Enjoying the Journey

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel7 Comments

It was towards the end of a bright day this past summer. Our west facing windows are open. I am watching the sun as it blazes through the clouds. The view is punctuated by a plane every few minutes on final approach to Glasgow airport. Their flight path is a few miles away. The planes as well as the sun are low on the horizon. Their sound is muffled, more of a distant hum than a roar. Not the harsh noise that airliners make when you are right under their flight path. Observing these heavy machines defying gravity yet slowly descending is strangely enjoyable. A smooth and steady end to travel. The end of a day merging with the conclusion of people’s journeys. 

I wonder about the occupants of these planes arriving from many places. Is this their first visit to Glasgow? What are their initial impressions? Are some returning after years away to a new, uncertain future? Who, if any, are meeting those anonymous passengers? A family, a friend or a business contact? Maybe the more faceless, formal greeting of a sheet or board held by a driver with your name. These descending aircraft contain the hopes and fears of many.

In arrivals everyone wants to get out of the airport as quickly as possible. I don’t know anyone who savours hanging around in arrivals. There might be the joy of meeting a loved one but even then you don’t linger. You leave as soon as practicable. Yet to arrive one has to leave from somewhere. Going through departures is usually slower and encourages use of shops, cafes etc. In spite of decades of increased hustle, bustle and security the departure hall of today’s airports still hold a vestige of excitement. In the 70s and 80s it was different. For the most part air travel felt more special and luxurious then than today’s typical budget airline experience. However, even nowadays, once through check in, customs and immigration, the departure experience is usually not that bad. Yes you are in limbo waiting for your flight but not feeling you are in a queue. There is also the prospect of leaving one world to emerge a short time later to a different one. The reason for a journey of course determines how one feels about the whole experience. In that there may be a multitude of joys and sorrows. Saying goodbye to home and family, starting a new life or job, facing up to responsibilities.

I notice how much more often we ask “When do we arrive?” than “What can I see on the way?”

Disguises of Love p34. Eddie Askew

Commercial air travel however does not lend itself to savouring the actual journey. Travel in an aluminium tube is not very aesthetic. Any ‘in journey’ experience for me nowadays is more likely to be internally, in my head. Of course it may be different if you were flying the plane. However I speak here about a ‘seat 21E in a crowded 737’ experience. 

Here is one personal recipe for a more absorbing journey. Become a passenger, not a driver, in a car travelling slowly through quiet countryside. It’s a bright day with clear views. There is little or no other traffic dictating your speed. No rush to arrive anywhere. The destination may even be the same place as the trip’s beginning. Happy even to just stop the car on occasions and take a closer look at something. Especially helpful to have knowledgable fellow passengers/ driver who know the area and its people well. Small villages, isolated houses and the occasional walker passes by. Fellow travellers have stories to tell with each passing scene giving a sense of connection to what or who you are passing by. “So and so’s building has a new fence round it.” “‘Mrs. ‘X’ passed away last year but her son now lives in the house.”

What’s around the corner?

Of course enjoyable journeys do not need modern means of transportation. We live in a restless world. I guess air travel can sometimes be a symptom of that malaise. One of the things that Covid lockdowns brought to me, a city dweller, was a better awareness of what is in my neighbourhood. This was through the simplicity of leisurely daily walks or cycles in our neighbourhood. Even in an urban environment there are things of interest and beauty on my doorstep. Lots of wild raspberries and blackberries (to eat) growing along hedgerows. Herons and ducks on their daily movements up and down the canal. Hidden streams in local parks, wildflowers by the roadside. These scenes were always there but I often did not have eyes to see. It took a pandemic for me to be less distracted. To become more aware of the rhythms of life that are always around me. 

“The Lord will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and for evermore.”  

Psalms‬ ‭121:7-8‬ ‭NIVUK‬‬

Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel8 Comments
Crowds visiting the on board book exhibition on MV Logos in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic – Jan 1987

In early 1987 Elisabeth and I were living on board the MV Logos. For both of us it had been our home previously before we got married. This latest period we had spent nearly 2 years travelling around the Caribbean, Central and North America and the north coast of South America. As I look at my diary of the time it was probably the most intensive time of our lives so far. Constant travelling and adjusting to many cultures it was also rewarding. My job involved coordinating onboard and onshore programmes as well as the advance preparations for future ports the ship would visit. It meant a mixture of being on board for some time and then travelling ahead of the ship to other countries and ports. Then return to the vessel, usually in another port from that I had left**. In the meantime Elisabeth’s job involved personnel responsibility for the women on board. 

Our cabin was tiny. Once when ship was in Puerto Rico we had a few days off shore in the home of an American couple. When asked how big our cabin was we said it was about the size of their walk in wardrobes. However it was our home. The 140+ crew of Logos were split up into different ‘families’ as a kind of smaller grouping to celebrate birthdays and other social occasions. They were led by a married couple and so we had a ‘family’ of about 10 singles of various nationalities. We would usually meet in our little cabin.

In our cabin with our ship ‘family’ on MV Logos (1985-87). Photo taken from cabin door.

My on board ‘place of work’ was also very small. Porthole-less, it had enough floor place for a swivel chair and a small desk. Entire office reachable from chair. I shared this space with the Chief Steward Mandy. The room was dominated and divided by the forward mast, almost like an unwanted guest. Mandy on the port side and I on the starboard. Being far forward on the ship the area was prone to pitching if there were rough seas. Elisabeth also had a little cupboard like space as an office underneath the main internal stairway.

Mandy and I, and mast, in our shared office

In January 1987 we were berthed in Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic. I had visited several times previously organising the ship to visit. On one occasion Elisabeth and I were able to do so together and stayed at the home of an American missionary couple. They had a beautiful, tropical garden. The husband was a real romantic. Every day he picked a fresh hibiscus to put on the breakfast table. 

Anyhow back to life on board Logos. One evening in our cabin I stretched for something on a shelf and was literally floored by an intense chest pain. This was followed by difficulty breathing and moving. The ship medic didn’t know what it was but gave me pain killers. After a few days I was still in pain and very breathless. It was decided to admit me to a local private hospital where they told me I had pneumonia. There they put me on a drip for 2 days. However no one could say what was the problem. After hospital I was back on board but was told to rest. 

I was discouraged by my situation. All the more as no one seemed able to diagnose and thus treat me. Some were saying it was my heart, others my lungs.  An X-ray seemed to show that I might have pleurisy or pneumonia. One time lying in bed my gaze fixed on the small poster on our cabin wall. It was the words of Jesus to his followers…

“Let not your heart be troubled. You believe in God ; believe also in me.”  John 14:1 KJV

My pain or my fatigue did not disappear but at that moment I felt Jesus had spoken to me. In context he was speaking to those who were fearful of their future without him. Yet for me his words of comfort to a troubled heart had both an emotional and literal meaning. 

Over the subsequent weeks my pain slowly eased and gradually I got a bit stronger. I returned to my previous tasks and travel. However it was clear that to fully recover Elisabeth and I needed to take things at a slower pace onshore. Elisabeth was also experiencing frequent migraines.

And so it was that in March 1987 we said goodbye to shipmates in the lovely island of Aruba in the Netherlands Antilles. Friendships had been forged through living and working together. Leaving such a caring community was not easy.

As we flew back to an unknown and unplanned for future in the UK we received a double blessing. No extra charge for our 80kg of luggage as we shared our situation with the airline. These were possessions from our home of 2 years and not from some exotic 2 week Caribbean holiday. Then as we waited in the departure lounge our names were called to the flight desk. Thinking there was some problem we were asked…

“There had been a mistake and the plane was very fulł. Would we mind if we were put in first class?”

Think you know the answer to that. 

Back in the UK my condition remained for some months. I was checked out by two doctors and a cardiologist. They gave assurances that whatever I had had it was not pleurisy or pneumonia and could not detect any problem with my heart. Maybe it was some kind of physical reaction to stress. Some things both then and later in life do not get explanations. It’s at times like that I need reminding of Jesus’ words on our cabin wall many years ago. 

POSTSCRIPT Little did we know that March 1987 would be the last time we would see this vessel that had been our home on and off over a 10 year period. On the 4th of January 1988 the ship ran aground. She had struck a submerged Chilean rock in the Magellan Strait in the very south of South America. Miraculously no one was lost and all the crew were safely rescued by the Chilean navy***. Today she is a rusting hulk resting on the same rock, half in and half out of the water with our cabin home submerged. However I would rather remember Logos as a tool that was utilised. It took people to welcome and serve the 6.5 million who walked up the gangway in 108 countries over 17 years. God had used the simple faith of a bunch of largely young and inexperienced people to touch many lives. That story continues to this day with other ships.

MV Logos, as I remember her.

** In another post I recall a visit to Haiti ( Poignant, Hopeful, Maybe Even Joyful ) where I detail more of what this advance work involved in the region. Similar work in other parts of the world can be found by clicking the tag ‘line up’ on this site.

*** You can read an interesting article here by Kathy Knight who was on board when the ship ran aground

8 Miles Until 10pm

On By Allan GrantIn life, travel9 Comments

The above sign I have passed many times on the main road between Glasgow and Perth whilst heading to the north of Scotland. Each time I wonder if this is a window to a new dimension. Space and time merge on approaching. I have bored my wife at my childlike (she would say childish) enthusiasm each time we pass. My reaction is no longer funny.

For sure if it was 9pm and I was driving at 8 miles per hour it would indeed be 10pm in 8 miles. Any other time of day and it’s a bit more complicated. Maybe at 8pm it means 2 hours driving at 4mph. These speeds are very slow for a car so more realistically at 9:50pm it would be 10pm in 8 miles if driven at 48 mph. On the other hand it could be the sign is a cue to check the time and adjust your speed accordingly. Indeed reaching 10pm in 8 miles is possible at any time of day but requires great care to drive at the right speed. 

On the other hand am not sure speed is what is signified. ‘8 miles until 10pm’ seems to be saying that whatever speed travelled 8 miles will bring you to 10pm. 8 miles in any direction and at whatever speed brings you to a fixed point in time, 10pm! Yes this sounds rather fanciful. Yet some of the things that particle and quantum physicists theorise about our universe are even odder. 

Maybe there is something special about the time itself. For most 10pm is the end of day and rest beckons. Perhaps the sign is a challenge to reflect on the day past or prepare for day’s end. Experiences, things done or not done. Regretted or relished. It’s time to put to bed both literally and figuratively.

Context means a lot. The accompanying petrol pump sign on the notice gives it a more mundane, yet important, meaning. Still I’d rather hope that the roads dept. wish to fire up our imagination. I can choose to dwell on the depressing realities of the news that is often the backdrop to our world. It is also possible to believe in a magical, transformative world. Yet most of the time I do not have eyes to see. To complete a car journey it is necessary to have enough fuel in the tank or sufficient charge in your batteries. Yet our longing is for life and journeys to have more meaning than just the utilitarian. 

There is enduring interest in the works of fairy tale and fantasy writers such as CS Lewis and TR Tolkien. They show that adults have a need, like oxygen, for imagination. As much if not more so than children. People from every background and age have great affection for and are inspired by books and films like ‘The Lord of the Rings’ and ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’. 

This humble road sign is an invitation to embark on an adventure. Like crew and passengers who choose to embark on some giant cruise ship. Everyone then makes individual choices of how to spend their time on board, living different lives. Yet all on board trust the captain will bring the vessel to safe harbour at evening’s end.

“When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty, I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

― C.S. Lewis, On Stories: And Other Essays on Literature