The past interrogated from the present, making order out of seemingly random events. Rewriting a life narrative to make sense of loss and disorientation. Why do this? It would seem to equip us better for the present, becoming objective rather than subjective, having a pattern rather than chaos, the victor rather than the victim. It is a form of 'reflective practice' which has always dominated my life.

Since time began, man is taken up with stories, both in the telling and in listening.
Sometimes the story can be intrusive, laying bare inmost thoughts and feelings, at other times healing in its benefits.

Taking up the threads of my life, which was in total disarray after years of passivity and imperception, I was startled into considering a new slant on the salvation Christ came to bring. During a sermon the pastor paused and phrased his thoughts like this. God was reasoning what He could do to show the world His compassion. He could send His Son. It struck me with such force 'What could God 'DO'? It was His doing that saved us, not His thinking or wishing. I began to look back from this new found perspective.

'Doing' was a suspicious phrase during my upbringing, to be avoided at all costs. It was the mark of those who avoided the new birth and thought that works took them to heaven. The Baptists were alone true to this evangelical faith, or so it seemed. Doing was limited to spiritual issues such as reading your Bible daily, witnessing to others, attending the YP prayer meeting and singing at an open air service. Sing songs were our 'entertainment' and sharing what God had said to you in His word ensured approval.

Attending the SCA at university, open to all denominations, was a revelation. There were actually true believers in other churches. Another set of spiritual activities followed and friends were found in these settings. If truth be told it was more about finding a boy or girlfriend, safe in the knowledge that they were of similar faith.

Assured of a place in the role of honour by devoting my life to mission work as a physiotherapist, I set myself the ideal of working at the Baptist Mission Hospital just outside Pretoria. A post was hopefully being set up but I would have to wait. A year overseas followed, enriching in its own way. On my return still no progress on the post had been made so I started working at our state hospital in Pretoria.

I gained reasonably varied experience but enjoyed working most as a respiratory therapist in the acute setting. I should add that Pretoria is predominantly Afrikaans speaking and I improved markedly in my fluency in that language, little knowing how important this would be.
Nearly all my colleagues were already married, something common to the Afrikaner culture.

Two years passed and I reckoned it was time to train as a missionary. Just then I heard of a two-year course of Theology at our Baptist College in Johannesburg. Two very fulfilling and rewarding years followed. I remember once thinking that I was experiencing utopia. Not only was my church the leading spiritual light in South Africa, but I was at the heart of our denomination. Higher I could not go. 'The heart is deceitful and desperately wicked'. In God's sight I was dripping with pride but could not see it.

Rather than work in the mission hospital I took up a newly-created post as a pastoral assistant in my home church. I had come to love exegesis of the New Testament, delving down into the original Greek, for which I developed a fascination. I combined a university level study of Greek with that of my college and obtained a first.

I had many years before decided that if I was to marry it would have to be someone in full-time Christian service. The possibility of a minister replaced that of a doctor. The year I left for college a former member of our church returned as a co-pastor. Being a bachelor, I thought that in order not to encourage match-making on the part of the members I would stay well away. He was all the wrong things in my view. Fortunately he went over to another church which had been newly set up, before I took up my post.

During my years as a student and afterwards I had many, what could be termed numinous experiences. A distinct feeling of spiritual blessing. This together with to me, obvious leading from God set me apart as especially dedicated. When I thought of the greatness of God in my life tears would come to my eyes. There was a special service of dedication when I took up my post as Pastoral Assistant, all very serious and moving.

Over the course of the next year I learned a method of leading Bible studies using questions. It was unique and markedly successful. Many groups were set up and established for many years to follow. It was during this year that I became increasingly concerned at the lack of Christian leadership shown by the diaconate. Our pastor had moved on into a denominational position and was seldom available. I felt the entire weight of pastoral concern rested on me and found this draining.

It was at this point that the pastor suggested I have time with mutual friends in the newly formed congregation. I had never swerved from evading their pastor, whom I thought was off-puttingly over weight and held to Calvinist teaching, the anathema of my faith. As I turned into their drive I found his car was there and was tempted to turn back. However I managed to persuade myself to face him.

It turned out to be one of those 'life was never the same again' evenings. It may sound banal but he had become most attractive through loosing weight. Men beware! Conversation flowed easily and as most people know this is paramount to me. There were more casual meetings and several long conversations on the phone. It became clear that there was a mutual attraction. I felt assured that here was someone who took his faith seriously and even more, had a concern for ministry in all its forms.

An evening out having dinner at a popular venue furthered our bonding. I heard nothing for two weeks and realised he had become important in my life. However I was to be taken by surprise. He called to make a time to see me at home. Without making casual conversation he asked me to marry him.

That week happened to be a crucial week in my theological concepts as I had come to understand the the so-called Calvinist position which marked out the congregation of which
my suitor was pastor. It is radical in its implications and without this insight it would be impossible to have a close relationship. All seemed directed by God and without reflection I accepted his proposal.

Our engagement was a complete surprise to both our congregations and our marriage was not long in coming. Little did I know what awaited me. I was plunged into the midst of a relational issue in the church with my husband at the centre. I'm not going to expand on this as it would add nothing good except to say for the first time in my life I had to relate to someone in the midst of severe depression. It was unknown in my family circle and came to be the default position in our relationship.

My life story was written on request of a physician dealing with a severe illness I had but destroyed on coming to the UK. It was healing in its benefits but didn't change the situation. It would be true to say that it affected both my ministry amongst the women of the churches we were in and our relationship as a family with Andrew being born four years after our marriage.

Two things never changed and held our family together. My husband never gave up on his 'reformed' position, maintaining the absolute sovereignty of God, and my freedom to share my thoughts with him. It was as if I kept his intellectual cisterns full and formed the basis of his ministry.

I never lost my spiritual zeal but time and again felt so alone in my life. As much as I loved my life in the church and had many really good friends, it seemed there was no one to minister to me. My time reading the Scriptures increasingly formed the start of my day, meditating and writing for a couple of hours.

I have elsewhere chronicled the spiritual depression that set in during my last years in South Africa. Its relevance is that it confirms my self-deception, and in a way my radical views concerning the self-deception of the majority of so-called believers today. It is precisely my seeming spirituality over many years which has unravelled.