The Searchlight of Insight

Checking out, checking in...

The mission trip to the Philippines was terrific. Sebastian and I had a wonderful time. We've agreed to make a video of the experience but don't expect it's release for another month. A bit too much going on at the moment... we returned from the mission trip on a Sunday night. Next day I was on the red-eye to Melbourne where I spent 48 hours then took the red-eye back. I was in Hong Kong for one week then off Sunday night to Bangalore to assist with conducting an off-site for our India Engineering Centre's leadership team. (My company has 1400+ employees in Bangalore.) Absolutely terrific week and joy to work with these leaders... except I got sick... really sick.

Exiting Bangalore at the end of the week, 2 AM Saturday morning, I tried to pick-up some medicine at the pharmacy. Bad choice. 30 - 45 minutes later I finally emerged after being screened for Swine Flu, that included the pharmacy calling over Government Health officials: I had a temp of 101F. In the few minutes between the pharmacy consult and government health officials I consumed almost two liters of water... anything to cool myself off. They let me go and Cathay/Dragonair upgraded me, too.

Landing in Hong Kong I found Terrific Tess with everything under control in the flat. Much more was moved across from the old flat to the new than I expected. All the painting was completed, including the girls' nuclear pink room. Tess has done an amazing job managing the move, packing, unpacking and has really been a superhero. We all kept pushing through until about 11 PM Saturday - the kids long asleep several hours earlier because, of course, they are sick, too. (Left: Sela pretends she's Gorgeous Odila... note the pink wall.)

Sunday involved more unpacking and me revving the reinstatement project: we have to return the flat to the GPA (landlord) with very specific guidelines. Between the two flats there has been a steady crew of contractors ripping out old items and either re-installing in the new flat or trashing. Today Gary and another assistant began painting the old flat along with a host of other repair work. Going back to the old flat is hard, considering all the memories of the last 8+ years. Naturally, there are little memory bombs lying about: Ben Ten stickers on the wall above Sebastian's bed, Carys' sunglasses accidentally lost amongst some trash (I rescued them), the original colour paint Tess and I chose for our bedroom in 2001 that we discovered after removing our flat screen TV from the wall. However, I am really clear: God wants all this behind me. That's why The Farm Door shut, the 6A Flat Door shut, and soon the door on my childhood home will close. We are in the middle of a season of significant change - many, many people around us are experiencing life changes. Are you? (Left: Jasper crashes on Sebastian's shoulder while Seb watches a movie on the small DVD player.)

Speaking of life changes, Sunday morning in the middle of our unpacking Marianne appeared to say "good-bye." If you've been following Tess' blog you probably know that Marianne took a job as a foreign domestic helper in Canada. We snapped one last picture of her with the kids, hugged her then said an emotional farewell. Her husband, Gary, remains with us and a good friend of theirs will start with us in August. For me, well today I was back at work and still trying to shake my cold. (Left: the kids pose with Marianne on the balcony - note the view!)

Leaving on a mission trip...

Christ has no body now but yours
No hands, no feet on earth but yours
Yours are the eyes through which He looks
compassion on this world
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
~ Prayer of St. Teresa of Avila

Sebastian and I are currently in Manila, Philippines, tomorrow morning on our way to Bacolod City, Negros Occidental. We are on a weekend mission trip with International Care Ministries. The goal is for a team of us to build one or two homes in a severely poverty stricken, slum area. (You may recall that earlier this year Tess & I sponsored a pre-school in this area.) Let’s back up a bit…

This morning before I left for work and the triplets for school, they were very whingy. Not sure what caused that but perhaps it was the late birthday party last night. Finally I said, “I know what you can do… I have a project.” We have months and months of accumulated sweeties from birthday parties. We’ve been encouraged to bring wrapped sweeties on the mission trip. The project was to divide up the sweetie pile into Give Away (wrapped) and Keep (not that well wrapped.)

“Why are we giving away our sweeties?” asked Carys.

“The children that Sebastian and I will see this weekend hardly ever get to have sweeties,” I explained.

“Why?” Carys continued to inquire. “Well, they don't have a lot of money," I replied, "and probably don't get party bags when people have birthdays. They might not even get to have birthday parties.”

“Okay!” Carys exclaimed and quickly went to work sorting sweeties. Jasper helped and in no time the project completed. Then Carys and Jasper agreed they wanted to bless the sweeties. Their prayer went something like this:

Dear Jesus, please bless these sweeties, may they help people to find You and may they be received with joy, Amen.

Sebastian and I have prayed sweeties in tow, along with a host of other goodies such as used clothes, toys and books. Sebastian is already a little shaken up. As we drove to the hotel in Manila several children approached the van at a stoplight, knocking on the window asking for food and money. Sebastian didn't cry, but he was distressed. Our host, Harry, expertly explained the situation. That was about the only time the kids were quiet between Hong Kong and Manila. (There are five kids Seb's age joining us this weekend.)

"Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you, all things pass away: God never changes." St. Teresa of Avila

The Farm, A Change of Seasons

God provides seasons to ones life. He opens doors. He closes doors.

In the 1970s I spent several weekends, during several winters, in the backseat of my family’s station wagon as my parents hunted for the ideal country property in Southern Ontario. While we sailed during the summers, the plan was to spend winter weekends on the best they could find. This process took several years as my parents hunted for The Gem. Eventually they found a 100-acre property in Omemee, Ontario, a place made famous as Neil Young’s childhood town. The purchase was made around March 1978 and the property named after my great-grandparents' long gone property in Antigua, West Indies: Marblehill. (At left: The Farm one week ago - do you see the image of the person in the upstairs window? Who do you suppose that might be?; putting up the sign circa 1979.)

Our first official visit to The Farm, my family and a team of friends descended on the place with an abundance of cleaning materials to give the house a penny’s shine. At one point I stood on a chair to clean lights hanging from the main room’s ceiling. I found a penny sitting on the edge of the chandelier. I left it there where it remains today. (At left: the penny still remains; aerial view from 1980s.)

Over the next three decades we spent lots of time at Marblehill: often two or more weekends a month during the winters, Thanksgivings, Christmas holidays, Easters, Mother’s Days and more. When I joined my high school ski team I spent weekends at Devil’s Elbow practising. We made maple syrup from the huge maple trees in the front yard. We planted thousands of pine saplings as part of an Ontario government reforestation project that 25 years later transformed the landscape. My sister, Penny, was married at Christ Church in Omemee and the reception held on the front lawn of Marblehill. When my high school champion maze running rat “Champagne Charlie” died, he was laid to rest on the crest of a nearby hill. A family cat, Odysseus, eventually joined him years later (the humour of which I have just figured out – “you buried me next to a CAT!?”) My model boats sailed on the pond and two rocks designated Marble Hill Yacht Club. (At left: my niece Carly, 1990; MHYC trophy printed on birch bark.)

Humour aside, The Farm was a sacred place. I lived there for three years while attending Trent University. You can imagine the country – gentleman type existence that provided. Nothing like a walk on 100 wooded acres for a study break. Neil Young's twangs added to the poignancy and memories. Marblehill was also a safe place – a quiet, escape from the rat race, Champagne Charlie finally discovered, where one could easily slip into tranquil inertia. Hey hey, my my, Marblehill brought great Joy. (At left: late afternoon light inside The Barn; tribute to Neil Young in Omemee.)

As the current financial crisis ensued Tess & I often wondered what we’d do in a worst-case scenario? What’s The Exit Plan? I presented this to one of my Christian brothers here in Hong Kong. The topic was a debate for several weeks until finally he proposed: “The Farm’s the exit plan. Your family would love to have you back in Canada. There are local schools and you have enough savings that living there is a real possibility until you find another job.” (At left: the front lane last week, the tire still hanging from Carly's 1990 picture.)

Rather chuffed for this brilliant insight, I called Marblehill a few days later knowing my dad would be there. Unfortunately Marblehill was in the middle of its own crisis. Thanks to a failed furnace and local freeze, my father discovered umpteen things array – including a ruptured septic system – upon arriving at The Farm with weekend guests less than 36 hours away. “I think it’s time to sell The Farm,” he said. (At left: The Pond; ; Manitou sailing on the pond, 1978.)

I knew he was right. Truthfully, we’d been building to this point for several years for reasons easily surmised: it’s a huge property needing constant attention, the house is on the edge of some major work and in total the overall family usage dropped down to a crawl compared to the Devil’s Elbow days. Tess & I discussed the possibility of buying the property, knowing it would be an emotional purchase greatly complicating our non-resident tax status. Regardless, the Chairperson of The Board approved the purchase if I so desired. None of this mattered. A lurking buyer immediately snapped up Marblehill. The deal closes mid-June. (At left: a change of seasons at The Farm, circa 1990s.)

Last week I went back to say my final good-bye to Marblehill and my childhood home, which will probably be next on the chopping block. I helped with some clearing out, taking 803 pictures. (Tess also offered to return with me to assist but remained in Hong Kong in the end.) Needless to say, a range of emotions coursed through my nerves. My family was wonderful as always. At the airport I fell apart saying good-bye to them. As I passed through security I looked back. My family was gone but gazing back at me was a pastor, his clerical collar visible, who watched the entire scene unfold. I waved and smiled at him then turned toward my gate. (At left: my father and I moments before leaving last week.)

The Farm is not the Exit Plan. That door is closed. I am grateful for the gift of Marblehill and will cherish those memories forever.  We beat on, boats against the current. It’s an obedience issue. He and I both know it.

“He changes times and seasons; he sets up kings and deposes them. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. He reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with him.” Daniel 2: 21 – 22

Megan Farrell, 1992 - 2008

I am fresh off a plane from Canada. I spent about a week with my family and partially helped pack up The Farm, a gorgeous country property that was in the family for about 35 years. I’ll write more about that trip another time. I wrote the following blog while on a plane back from my US business trip in early May. This will be the beginning of a torrent of blogs on what’s been happening with me lately – read spiritually. I am without doubt in a season of total surrender.

I'm on a plane and writing a blog I've wanted to write for a long, long time about Megan Farrell who died in November of last year. Tess wrote about that week in this blog. The theme of this topic has been building for a long, long time - since as early as 1982 with the puzzle now coming into clearer view - but of late my life has been somewhat of a spiritual and emotional earthquake.

Megan was the daughter of a friend of mine, Colin. Colin and I attend a weekly Bible study/men's prayer group at lunch on Thursdays. For some time we'd been praying for Megan who struggled with an eating disorder but in the months proceeding her death made positive turns for the best. In the days before her death Megan caught a flu bug and it was just one of those cases where the bug took her down. Colin found her on a Saturday morning as I was about to head to the US. On the way to the airport I received a text message from another mutual friend that read, "pls pray for the farrell family, daughter megan, 16, passed away this morning, patrick."

At first I didn't understand, then finally what had happened hit me like a sledge hammer. I made some frantic phone calls as the Holy Ghost began to place the weight of this event on my shoulders. I was deeply, deeply troubled. I could hardly be with myself. The flight to the US was dark. The Sunday in the US was darker as I visited two of my favourite US churches in the Silicon Valley area, dwelling in the heaviness of Megan’s death.

While in the US I reached out to Colin via e-mail. To my surprise Colin wrote back. I considered myself on the low end of priorities at that moment, but he took the time to respond. I felt very much called to put together a photo video of Megan's life. I had no idea how it would be used or when, but the call was there. Colin agreed, provided I understood that he also didn’t know when it would be used. Meanwhile, he was living my worst nightmare: the death of one's child.

I landed back in Hong Kong and the process of making the video began. Over the course of the next week two things happened. First, and this might be a bit harsh, but I questioned if somehow Megan’s death was a failure of Christian brothers - not specifically at any individual, but as a whole, had the community supported Colin as much as we could? This sense grew as I sifted through hundreds of photos of Megan: some I received from Colin and his family and others that came off a Facebook group created as a tribute to Megan. Megan’s school reserved a classroom for students to visit and post messages/pictures of and to Megan. Tess and I visited, snapping pictures from here, too.

After viewing, cropping, enhancing hundreds of pictures, I knew Megan in a whole new way. That was heavy. I couldn't help but wonder if those of us who had prayed for Megan knew her, as we could have known her. Could my prayers have been more pointed, powerful, precise and thereby interceded more effectively for a different outcome? Megan was a committed Christian. There seemed no question of Megan's salvation - although it's not for me to judge - but heavy on my heart was the question, "What about those who don't know Christ, Charles, or who have fallen away? How many of those will...?" This notion that I – and maybe others - could have done more weighed heavily on my heart and has continued since then. At various prayer groups we've discussed the idea and since then made a greater effort to get out of our "prayer comfort zones."

Second, that week I had the privilege of being closer to Colin and his family than one would typically expect considering the circumstances and that it was only Colin who I knew. Through the video production and offering our "people mover" to ferry people back and forth to and from different events I had the privilege of being available. That gave me a humbling glimpse into the family’s world. What I most appreciated was how much they trusted me to be around for the fleeting moments when I was here and there. The funeral, held by Ambassador Church at Union Church, was wonderful and extraordinary: an amazing message of hope in the midst of a huge family tragedy. Below is the video I made that played twice as people arrived at the church before the service started.

About six weeks later Editha died. Her story can be found here. Tess has asked many times: "if things happen in '3s' then what or who is next?" Well we probably don't know, and even if we did, we wouldn't prophesize at this point but certainly we're praying for the situation. Meanwhile, since Megan’s death I have taken more time for and with my friends’ kids… taken those extra few seconds or minutes to connect with them more meaningfully. If those moments count towards making a better world for others, then from what I have learned of Megan, she would be happy. I have also made attempts to step beyond my spiritual comfort zone and thanks to God, I am getting considerable prompting in that area. Stay tuned for details.

"Every time I think of you—and I think of you often!—I thank God for your lives of free and open access to God, given by Jesus. There's no end to what has happened in you—it's beyond speech, beyond knowledge. The evidence of Christ has been clearly verified in your lives." 1 Corinthians 1:4-6

The New Creation

Here is "The Black Beauty" parked this past weekend outside Mary Knoll in Stanley, Hong Kong. I was at Mary Knoll from Friday night to Saturday night for a Walk To Emmaus Team retreat after having just rolled off a plane from my US business trip. In my last post I wrote "God is well at work in my life." The theme of that work has been, "Where's home?" I had no idea what the retreat would be about. I expected we'd be discussing invigorating the Hong Kong WTE Community in preparation for the fall Walk To Emmaus retreats. We didn't talk about that at all. The 24 hour meditation, lead by Pastor Scott Lawson and Sister Amelia, was themed "Coming Home." Wow, now there's irony and stay tuned for much, much more. Scott explained on Friday evening, "Home is in the new creation God wants us to be." I'm glad we got that clear now I just have to figure out what God wants me to be.  The 24-hour escape was very, very well done and rewarding.

After I arrived home on Saturday evening, Tess and I took the kids to say good-bye to our very dear friends Joel & Odila: this lovely couple discovered their new home is Angola, Africa due to Joel's work. We've been building up to this departure for several months and today Joel and Odila officially left Hong Kong. We bought them their favourite McDonald's meals (McD's hasn't reached Luanda, Angola's capital), the girls gave them hand made cards and a round of hugs came from all four kids. It ended up being a very late night with the kids finally hitting the hay about 10:30 pm. In a similar farewell, last week the four of us (pictured here) enjoyed a Last Supper at Hong Kong's trendy and popular restaurant Isola. One can easily tell from the picture that Joel and Odila are warm and loving friends. But ahem, please also note how drop dead gorgeous the lovely and tantalising Tess!