The big decision and the Faithful Hand

Last week’s activity spike saw a fairly gentle and calm return to ‘normal’ within a couple of days. Ben remained on the High Dependency Ward back in the Royal Devon & Exeter Hospital for two days after his two strong seizures, but made such good progress that he was returned to the Mardon Neuro Rehab Centre by the middle of the week. He was so happy and grateful to get back to his room at Mardon as it’s feeling quite like home to him now. He’s felt incredibly tired since these recent seizures and spends a lot more time sleeping as his body is plainly catching up and healing. He choose not to come home for the day on Saturday, feeling too vulnerable and at risk of something happening. That feeling was confirmed as yesterday he had another bout of sickness which has both laid him out and left him feeling pretty weak. He loves having visitors, so if you know him and you’re able to get there, do try….visiting times are 4.30pm – 9.30pm daily.

My rashes and itchiness described last week, whilst possibly a side effect of the Ipilumumab’s interplay with my body, were considered more likely an allergic reaction to something. Driving into the hospital beforehand however, I was convinced in my mind it was the beginning of the end, but was reassured by the ward doctor that all seemed fine, and within 12hrs and with a dose of antihistamine, it had all cleared up. My sister Julia in Melbourne suggested that perhaps with my immune system living in such a heightened state, it meant that something I might have had a minor reaction to once, now manifests more severely. “Seemed sensible”, the rest of the family chimed in via WhatsApp, our ever-pinging group chat app on our smart phones. As my friend Dave kindly offered, “You just have to learn to be not such a drama queen!” It was good to have a laugh about it. However in the last few days, I’ve been feeling pretty ‘feak & weeble’ and over the weekend have developed signs of discomfort in my chest which have come and gone with the return of some fairly prolific night sweats again. Is this the sign of my tumour finally reacting to the drug and becoming inflamed, or something more? I just can’t hide from the feeling that things are moving along.  And that’s unsettled Catherine and family around us, which causes me some agony.  That, to be honest, is my ongoing source of pain in all this…seeing what it keeps causing in my darling ones. The crucial next CT scan takes place this Friday, but results aren’t returned until I meet with my oncologist two weeks later. Is it going to feel a long couple of weeks? Perhaps, but as I’ve often felt tangibly carried along as on eagles wings, so I’ve got a confidence that Father will continue to do so…and that for all of us.

But our big decision which was announced across my churches this last weekend is that, after some time considering the realities and possibilities, I will take early retirement on grounds of ill-health most probably effective at the end of April. It was done in consultation with my doctor and the Bishop of Exeter. It was partially my doctor’s unequivocal “absolutely!” that made it so clear, but also an increasing feeling that it would best serve the family’s needs as well as opening up new, but lighter ministry opportunities for me while or as I’m able. It does seem strange that at the age of 48 and after 20 years of stipendary ordained ministry to be doing this, but these are extraordinary circumstances. Plainly, it’s a decision which we’ve not taken lightly and I’m conscious of the pain of parting, leaving our village and church family in our parishes here, but it’s one about which ultimately we feel very peaceful. It’ll also allow for some clarity and planning for my colleague Mike (whose wife Rachel is facing not one but two major battles with cancers…read her blog here) and the diocese in considering a successor to help shoulder the heavy load currently being sustained since I’ve been on sick leave these last few months.

In the meantime, it presents us with the big issue of housing. As a large family, we’ve benefitted from some excellent church-owned vicarages over the last twenty years, but on retirement, all that goes. Whilst we do own a small 1.5 bedroom flat in the small Devon market town of Crediton, it’s tiny and only good for 2-3 or short stay accommodation. So, considering the future, we’ve started on the momentous task of house hunting, of doing our calculations and engaged in the breathtaking task of raising finances, trusting God as we seek to buy, for the first time, a family home that may or may not be a part of my own future.  Already we’ve received three particular signs which have encouraged us to believe that we’re doing the right thing. Firstly, a dear woman approached us at a large city-wide service one night and through our conversation, encouraged Catherine and I to realise afresh that God saw and could supply the need and that she might,after some prayer, be of some assistance. Then secondly, a couple of days after taking the retirement decision, we received not only a gift from my previous church and from friends, but also a note through the post from a member of a former congregation of mine, sending greetings and love, and being reminded herself of God’s faithfulness shown to her both directly and through her late husband, felt prompted by God to send a gift to us and was therefore enclosing a cheque. The gift was a generous ‘seed’ amount of money, tangibly now showing us that Father would help supply what was needed for a family home. Catherine and I stood facing each other with eyes welling as we read both it and the cheque. Amazed. Speechless. Thankful. It was the apostle Paul who wrote, “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19)

Thirdly, we put our flat on the market a week ago last Saturday. Five days later, we had an offer – full asking price. Again, we saw Father’s hand.        

Understandably, Catherine is particularly keen that I’m a part of any purchase – that she can say I saw it, that I was there. So, still waiting to see how Father might supply what is lacking, yet proceeding sensing that we ought, we’ve viewed a few houses and, taking into account both the location of Catherine’s job in Crediton and Exeter College for Lydia next year, we’ve identified and viewed what we feel is the perfect one – a modest house, and one that has room enough for those who are still at home including Ben & Dabi, who’ll most likely need accommodation and support with us into the medium term and a downstairs bedroom should a time come when I need it.  

As I listened to an amazing man last week speak about he and his young family’s work, living and sharing Christ among Muslim fishing communities in South-East Asia, he said so often it’s only when we’re at our wits end, God meets us there. I smiled and nodded my head in recognition. It was good though to be encouraged to keep realising it.