Missionary Gas

Fitting in well:   Colombia butterfly near our old flat One of the effects of long-term missionary work is gaps in your history.   Recently I joined the Strathkelvin Ramblers.  Before going to South America I had done a little hill walking,  so I turned up confidently with my waterproofs,  chocolate bar and bottle of water.    But the missionary is soooo out of date.   The sight of my fellow ramblers made me fear we were going camping.      Their rucksacks were packed with what,   I wasn't sure of,   although one man had three pairs of gloves,  another had compass,  binoculars,  and sat-nav as well as a water-proof map.   Walking poles were produced,  two per person,  although it wouldn't have surprised me if some had a couple more,  just in case. Maybe it's Bishopbriggs affluence,  I said to myself.   But no,  other hill walkers were identical:    poles,  rucksacks and compartmentalized sandwich boxes.   I felt naked in my Gortex jacket,  Berghaus leggings and

"God's providence is my inheritance":   the old wing of Ballygally  Castle  Hotel Today is the first day of my new job.  I'm now an Online Editor with the IMB, still involved in the Spanish speaking world,   but based in Lenzie.   It was a pleasant morning:  published a sermon in Spanish on building your house on the rock/sand (Mat 7:24-29),  and started writing an evaluation of   Textos fuente y contextuales de la narrativa evangélica .     This is a Jewish background commentary on Mark from the Qumran texts and the like,    written by a Catholic professor in Granada,   and is a challenging read. Hanging over me is a series for From the Frontiers .    Offering to do them for Charlie a couple of months ago was easy enough.  So also was signing up for a 10k race in aid of missions in Strathclyde Country Park.   I definitely need some kind of make-you-go-faster socks.