Our last week in the Seminary is a blurr. We cleared the flat, Olwen sold my favourite trousers for 30p, and I was sent out to buy an animal chair. Two years ago we'd bought a giraffe chair for a granddaughter, but this time all I could get was a Friesian cow with solid wooden legs.

Lovingly others had paid for us to fly Business Class and Olwen was delighted. Unfortunately news of the upgrade hadn't reached Colombia's military security. And just as she, for the first time in her life, stepped into the Priority Access lane in Medellin's airport, a voice called her away. Surrounded by unsmiling camouflaged military every item in two cases was examined.

I blame it on the local lilt she's developed working in Zero Stress: it was assumed she was a mula (mule or drug smuggler). The cow, suspected of being a Trojan Horse, was X-rayed twice, Leon Morris' commentary on John's gospel was smelt, and each book was carefully examined for traces of cocaine. She was terrified that someone had planted drugs and it was of limited consolation that the city’s women's prison was called El Buen Pastor (the Good Shepherd). Anxious airline officials told me to Board on my own.

And so we left Colombia: drugs, Dengue and Christian love. And remembering our neighbours, trusting many had tasted the gospel of Jesus.

Zero Stress is now being directed by Mark Wittig who runs an excellent Christian sports ministry in the city. And I have years of writing to get on with.

Thanks again for your interest and prayers. If more gospel travels start up I'll be in touch.

Photo: Big sale in our flat, everything went.

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