November, the month of remembrance

an interview on radio

 November is certainly a month for remembrance. In a few days, the 5th November, many in the UK will be recalling the poem "Remember, remember, the 5th of November" which continues to detail the story from history of Guy Fawkes and the failed gun powder plot over 400 years ago. The 11th November is also known in the UK as "Remembrance day", remembering the day that peace came to the world in 1914, with the hope that we might have seen the war to end all wars. That hope was so disappointing, wars continue to this very day but we continue with that memory seeking to find lasting peace. Today, the 1st of November, is also a day to remember, "All Saints day". It is a day to be reminded that there is something personal in all of this, for the bible indicates that saints are the people who have trusted Jesus as Saviour. On the day of that commitment God has set us apart for him, not about being perfect for none of us has gained perfection but to know a work of Christ has taken place in our lives.

It is ironic that I am writing about remembering because memory is something I do not have an abundance of. Rather I would say I have a great "forgettery". However, I want to share about how an important memory came back to me.

I had a very nomadic youth due to my dad being in the Royal Air Force, as I did also soon after leaving school. Looking back I am aware that I have lived in 50 houses since my birth, scattered around the world from Singapore, Yemen, Cyprus, Germany, as well as England Scotland and Wales. I guess part of the coping mechanism for such a nomadic upbringing is that you focus on where you are as you can survive by always looking over the shoulder. So the past is forgotten as one lives in the present.

Currently I am a Baptist Minister and during my time in Scotland was asked to conduct the funeral of a lady in a nursing home, I made the arrangements with her daughter, but never met the son till the funeral due to him living some distance away in England. Speaking with him I discovered he lived close to one of the places I lived in. He spoke of people and places in the locality, but they had all disappeared from my memory until he mentioned a business that I recalled well and I spoke of the family that owned it. I put it to the back of my thoughts as they said that was not the owners now, However, as the conversation continued one of them said "the name that you mentioned, I remember that's the lady's maiden name". It was still in the same family, and I knew the lady well, we were within months of each others ages. What shocked me most, however, is that there were so many I had forgotten. Especially as it was a point in my life when I had needed so much support. As an adult I am of the view that all we meet in the journey of life are important because without them I would not have become what I am. As a teenager I was thinking I had not kept to that ideal.

A few months later I was not well and was advised medically that I should take time out. Life was always full so the concept of just twiddling my thumbs seemed so alien to me. What was I to do? Remembering the experience described above, I decided to sit at the computer and type out the things I could recall, and research to fill in the gaps. It was indeed therapeutic for me, but someone else reading it through suggested that this is something to be published. With some encouragement that exercise detailing 18 months of my teenage life became published as "From Barren Rocks to Living Stones". The true story of a teenager evacuated out of the midst of a country full of terrorism

The Book cover of "From Barren Rocks to Living Stones"

An item in an Arabic newspaper referring to the book