Operation Great Britain

Introduction

 For years people have been telling me that I should write an account of my life. I’m sure that is the case for everybody as we all have a tale to tell. At last I have started on the task my desire is that those who read this book will find it both entertaining and instructive. I confess that I have had a very wonderful life and most especially since my conversion to Christ in June 1982. Before that time, in many ways my life was also wonderful but I lacked true peace and real purpose for living. I was obsessed with the pursuit of personal happiness without regard to what that might cost others who stood in the way of my goal.

The apostle John at the end of his gospel said it like this, “if all the things which Jesus did were written down, I guess that there is not enough room in the world to contain all the books”.

In some ways I feel hypocritical writing this book because it has been my contention for years that if Christians really want to walk in the presence and power of God, then all they really need is to understand the Bible. My intention for writing is therefore not primarily to share my doctrinal understanding, but to document my experience as a ‘person of the book’, and the transforming effect the Bible has had not just on my life, but on those who God has touched through me.

It’s very easy when discussing yourself to try and present your best side, but when we read the descriptions of people in the Bible both in the old and new Testaments we see that God inspired the writers to tell their stories, warts and all, and so it is my desire that others benefit from where I went wrong, rather than having to repeat some of the things which I have done and have caused both myself and others pain.

Chapter 1.

“Lord, give me courage!” That was what came out of my mouth, though it certainly did not come out of my mind. “How strange” I thought; I would have expected to pray, “Lord keep me safe during my take-off, flight and landing, but where did that come from?”  I then started the engine, ran down the hill and within seconds was airborne for the very first time whilst hanging in a canvas harness with a heavy two-stroke engine screaming away on my back and watching the ground disappearing beneath me at about 500 ft a minute. At this point, I offered up a quick prayer to heaven in the form of a question. “Now what do I do?”

Perhaps we should back up a little at this point to explain how this unusual situation occurred in the first place. About six months earlier I had been watching television at home when I saw for the first time in my life a paramotor, a personal form of aviation which required the pilot to strap an engine to his back and fly under a paraglider. The engine provided the thrust and the paraglider the lift; ingenious in its simplicity and portability, but to what good use could it be put? My immediate thought was “Wow! What a great tool for preaching the gospel over people’s heads.”

A couple of days passed and I found myself driving to work in Winchester when I picked up a hitchhiker to aid him not only on his journey to his earthly destination but with the motivation of sharing the good news of the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ with him to help him find an eternal home in Heaven. I started the conversation by asking him what he did for a living? His answer astonished me; he told me that he taught people to fly paramotors, so I asked him how many people in Britain did what he did, to which he replied that there were four of them. Four people out of sixty five million, now that is no coincidence considering I had never even heard of a paramotor until two days earlier.

For the remainder of the journey I asked him lots of questions about paramotoring and he provided me with the answers. When I dropped him off at the airfield at Chilbolton, he asked me to hang on whilst he went into his office to collect a VHS video which he gave to me and told me it would explain everything I needed to know about paramotoring. I then proceeded to my office in Winchester where later that day I had a meeting with the UK Managing Director, Ges Brown. During the meeting, I asked him the question, “How about the company sponsoring me to preach the gospel from the air?” His response was, “What are you talking about John?” To which I replied, “Watch this video and you’ll understand.”

It’s worth explaining at this point, that at the time I worked as the UK Sales Director for IQ Software, a NASDAQ listed company whose European headquarters were in Winchester. Ges Brown reported to the board in Atlanta, and I was responsible to him for the UK OEM sales target.

Two days later Ges offered me a deal. He said that if I could achieve sales of £480,000 within the next two months, the company would buy me all the necessary equipment and training to fly the paramotor. My response to this offer was to pray – “Lord, if you want me to preach the gospel from the air I need £480,000 worth of sales within the next two months.” Two months later sales of £481,000 had come in – just in time. Ges Brown was true to his word but later admitted that he never expected to have to pay out. O ye of little faith.

During the next couple of months the equipment and training were purchased from a company called Sky Systems located near Brighton on the south coast of England. At the time Sky Systems was one of the leading providers of paraglider and paramotor equipment and training in Britain. Though they were inconveniently situated with me living in Salisbury, this inconvenience became an important factor in what was to transpire some months later.

Impatient to take to the skies, I arranged with Sky Systems that one Saturday I would undergo a day’s training; however after driving for two and a half hours to the site near Brighton (aptly named Devil’s Dyke), I was told that the weather was unsuitable for ab-initio flying and that training that day was cancelled. The following week exactly the same thing happened. Over two weekends I had driven ten hours with nothing to show for it, very frustrating – especially as I was fairly impulsive at the time.

To my surprise and delight I then discovered that it there is no legal requirement to have training for either paragliding or paramotoring. Armed with this new found knowledge I decided to take matters into my own hands and teach myself to fly, (don’t try this at home), so I went ahead and purchased all the books and videos I could find on the subject and eagerly digested their contents.

It seemed to me that the most difficult part of flying a paramotor was taking off. The trick was to be exactly lined up into wind and then with the engine producing full power to run as fast as possible until the lift from the paraglider carried you up into the air. So with the help of friends, and especially my good friend Mark Stokes, I spent the next couple of months trying to get airborne. During the process I broke several propellers, sections of the cage protecting the propeller and I even managed to slice through one of the supporting lines which attached the harness to the paraglider. However, despite these setbacks I remained resolute that I would eventually fly.

It was now August 8^th 1997 and whilst driving back home to Salisbury from my office in Winchester the Holy Spirit spoke into my heart and said, “You are going to fly this evening.” Armed with this prophetic word I called several of my friends and asked them to meet me at Hudson’s Field on the outskirts of Salisbury and I explained to them that the Lord had told me I would surely fly that evening. Once everyone arrived, we prepared the equipment and prior to making the first take-off attempt I suggested that we should pray, which leads me back to where I began this chapter.

So what happened next, you may ask? Well the flight went according to the word the Lord had spoken to me earlier that day, here I was airborne for the first time. However, after ten to fifteen minutes of flying around the immediate area from which I had taken off, experimenting with the simple controls of direction and varying the height by increasing or decreasing the thrust from the engine, I made a fundamental mistake.

I had descended to just a few feet over the field from which I’d taken off from but was being driven towards a main road by the wind which I estimate gave me a ground speed of about 30 mph. I then saw that in front of me was a line of trees and I applied full power in order to clear them, to do so I had to lift my feet up and just skimmed the top of the canopy. Then suddenly, to my horror, I saw that in front of me was a row of houses and that at the rate I was ascending I would not clear the roofs.

You may remember me mentioning earlier how that when I prayed prior to take-off, I was surprised to hear myself petitioning the Lord for courage. Well this was when my prayer was answered. I immediately realised that my only hope of survival was to fly through a gap between the houses rather than be splattered like a bug against the walls. I was climbing, but only at the same rate as the houses which were built on a steep hill going upwards so my height above the ground remained constant at about four feet.

Apparently, there was a lady washing her dishes when I flew straight past her kitchen window. During the next minute or so I navigated between the houses, just clearing the fences and bird tables and eventually ended up overhead a pig field to the east of the Paulsdene housing estate; shaken but unscathed.

Having regained my composure I then flew to the ancient site of Old Sarum Castle and from this vantage point prayed over the city of Salisbury for God to bring revival to the city before returning to land in the field from which I had taken off. Mission accomplished!

Within minutes of landing the police arrived in response to seven emergency calls they had received from people living on the housing estate. Once it was ascertained that nobody had been injured and no property had been damaged, the Police took my details and left.

That might have been the end of the matter except that one of the houses I had flown close to belonged to an air traffic controller from Bournemouth Airport. Though the police were unaware that any offence had been committed, this man knew that I had infringed the Air Navigation Order on at least three counts. Likewise, the manager of Old Sarum Airfield, Lesley Maynard had observed the proceedings and together with the air traffic controller they reported me to the Civil Aviation Authority, (CAA).

Some weeks later, I was contacted by the CAA who told me that they wished to interview me under caution. In my naiveté I initially thought that they were there to help me, but soon realised that a prosecution for low-flying, and flying too close to an airfield was looming. Paramotoring in Britain is unregulated, similar to cycling you do not need a licence to ride a bicycle, however, you are still required to observe the rules of the road. Flying through people’s gardens and near to the final approach path of an airfield is not acceptable as I was shortly to find out when I was arrayed before Salisbury Magistrates Court for doing so. Before I went to court, word of my impending prosecution got out to the paramotoring community who were less than happy at the prospect of the negative publicity which my case brought to the sport, possibly resulting in restrictions being placed on their hobby. I assured them that I would take full responsibility for my actions by pleading guilty to all the charges.

I started this chapter by explaining how God had prompted me to pray for courage prior to my first flight with the paramotor; and also how He had told me whilst driving back to Salisbury that I would definitely fly that evening, despite months of failing to get airborne. The seemingly negative outcome of being brought to court was not the highlight of the year, but I drew encouragement from Paul’s letter to the Church in Rome where he wrote that “God works all things together for good, to those who love Him and are called to fulfil His purposes”¹ My motivation for wanting to fly the paramotor was to preach the good news of salvation through faith in Christ, the duty of every Christian believer. I was therefore confident that God’s hand was on this venture. What transpired as a result of the prosecution brought by the CAA, clearly showed me that “His ways are higher than ours.”²

The court took a dim view of me endangering myself and the lives/property of others and fined me with costs a total of £1300. As I was leaving the court building, a reporter came up to speak to me from the Salisbury Journal, and said to me something like, “so what were you playing at?” I discovered later that this journalist had only come under sufferance because one of the court ushers had called the newspaper to tell them that there was an interesting case in court that day. I got the impression that he really didn’t want to be there and was keen to get the story and go home for the night. When I started to explain to him that the reason I had acquired the paramotor in the first place was so that I could preach the good news of Jesus Christ to people from in the air, and how my company had bought it as a reward for achieving a very high level of sales, I noticed that his interest piqued and he was furiously writing down every detail that I gave him.

After the meeting had concluded I flew to Israel on a business trip and came close to being martyred at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, but that’s for another time.

I returned to the UK the following week and on the Thursday the front page of the Salisbury Journal was dedicated to the story of the “Flying Preacher”. They had a picture of me with the paramotor engine attached to my back with the story described in all its glorious detail. What happened next though was truly amazing. For the next few days I received dozens of telephone calls from newspapers, TV networks and radio stations all asking me for interviews, many of which promised to be live. One journalist from the Times newspaper drove from London to Winchester in order to take me for lunch so that she could get a scoop on the story. I was invited by Channel 4 and ITV to take part on the Richard and Judy Show and GMTV’s breakfast show with Eamon Holmes. Meridian TV featured the story on their Meridian Tonight news programme with Fred Dinenage as the host. Also,  many radio stations did live interviews with me for their audiences in the UK and abroad. The obvious advantage of live TV and radio is that it provided excellent opportunities for me to share the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ as there was little they could do to prevent me once I started. You can find several of these interviews online at my YouTube channel, the link is provided at the end of this book.

Finally on this story, a German terrestrial TV network started to show an interest in this eccentric British preacher. Initially, they sent a team over to conduct a short magazine style interview, but the director, a British expat living in Germany called James Pastouna, told me that he would like to do a documentary about me for German television. Some months later James contacted me and said “You must have been praying hard, because they have given me the budget to do a documentary about you.” In reality, I hadn’t prayed at all.

James and his crew came over to the UK and spent 10 days filming for the documentary which they called ‘The Flying Preacher’, ‘Der Fliegende Prediger’ in German, which I believe was transmitted a total of 19 times across Germany during the following two years and was the most successful documentary Pastouna had made in his film making career.

Shortly after all this took place, the Holy Spirit spoke to me and said “you asked Me for the opportunity to preach the gospel from the air, but I have given you the airwaves.” What I had intended was to preach to a few people above their houses and yet through this apparent crisis and resulting prosecution, millions had heard the glorious gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, all for the measly sum of £1300 which coincidentally had almost exactly been covered by the sale of the video of my flight to the media networks for use in their news programs, it would appear that even if crime doesn’t pay, it at least – covers the costs.

That favourite preacher of mine, the Apostle Paul, wrote to the Church in Ephesus – To Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.³ I had thought to preach to a few, but God had bigger ideas. One plants, another waters but God gives the increase.⁴

“The people who know their God shall be strong and do exploits”.5 This verse can be found in the book of Daniel and is especially popular amongst African Christians. Only the King James Bible uses the word ‘exploits’ but I believe that the translators knew the mind of God when they rendered it this way. There are two aspects to this verse, first of all, you need to know God, and secondly the natural result of knowing Him is a life of exploits.

I remember being told the good news about Jesus Christ shortly after I was kicked out of the Royal Navy at 21 years of age back in 1979. I was temporarily residing at the Royal Sailors Rest in Plymouth. This establishment was founded by a missionary to the men and women of the Royal Navy and though Agnes Weston had since died it was still run by ‘born-again’ Christians.

Every time I would return to the building, it seems that I would be collared by people who told me that Jesus loves me and that I needed to be saved. As I was not ready to receive the good news of the gospel at this time, I dreaded these almost daily confrontations and did everything I could to avoid them. One of the biggest stumbling blocks to me receiving the message was that I generally saw Christians as very boring individuals. They seemed to live unspectacular lives and many of them didn’t visibly express the joy that they told me I could have if I would just surrender my life to God and become like them.

I also remember that though they talked of being delivered from the power of sin, they themselves seemed to be struggling to be at peace with their God. It seemed that they were trying to earn God’s favour through good works. This contrasted with my experience when in June 1982 I met with God face to face and declared my need for forgiveness and salvation, I almost instantly knew that I was not just a new person, but an entirely different type of creature, that if I never visited a church again in this world it wouldn’t matter because God had ‘made me right with Him’.

One of the most striking things that happened to me during the first few weeks of my Christian life, was when one day as I was working on my motorcar engine which had been removed from the vehicle, it rolled onto my fingers. Now prior to becoming a Christian, whenever I hurt myself whilst carrying out a manual task, my mouth would express what was in my heart. I would vomit out oaths and curses and blasphemies as naturally as breathing. On this occasion, the pain was excruciating and my reaction was instantaneous. I didn’t have time to compose myself or to think, “now that I’m a Christian I mustn’t swear any more”, it just came out of my mouth, “Oh dear that hurts”. When I heard myself react in this way I knew that I was a completely new person, Hallelujah!

Going back to the verse I started with, ’exploits’ to me, speak of daring adventures which may or may not be accompanied by supernaturally spectacular results, but which always advance God’s purposes in the earth, though that may not necessarily be evident at the time.

In order to qualify as a “doer of exploits”, it is not academic or intellectual expertise which is the primary requirement, or indeed superlative ability in any area of life, but rather, an attitude of the heart which desires to glorify God at whatever cost is necessary.

In chapter one I described my paramotor experience in great detail. In the last seventeen years I have had plenty of time to ponder the dynamics of what happened. I have concluded that firstly my response when first seeing a paramotor on TV was a desire to own one for the purposes of preaching the gospel, it was not to own one for the pleasure it might bring me. Secondly, when my boss offered me a deal that if I should reach his very high sales target of £480,000 the company would buy all I needed, my prayer was, “Lord, if You want me to preach the gospel from the air, then I need £480,000 worth of sales”. Again, what this tells me is that my priority was the will of God concerning this issue. Finally, the side benefit of making the sales target was in addition to getting the paramotor, my pay cheque that month was £28,000 before tax, more than many people at the time earned in an entire year. Nevertheless, I truly believe that my motivation in this instance was not the money but sharing the good news of Jesus with people, even if it was in an unorthodox manner.

Many times over the years whilst preaching in churches I have warned congregations that success will kill you far quicker than failure. Elvis Presley rose to fame in a relatively short space of time; sadly he was not able to handle his success and ultimately it destroyed him resulting in an early death.

Contrast Elvis’s life with that of Joseph described in the biblical book of Genesis6 where we read how Joseph received a dream from God, but sharing this dream with his siblings resulted in them rejecting him, selling him into a life of slavery to be falsely accused of attempted rape and imprisoned in the foulest conditions for a crime he didn’t commit. Nevertheless the rejection, the pain and injustice all worked together with his ‘fear of God’ to produce a man whose character sustained him during good and evil times and ultimately resulted in both Egypt and his Father’s house being saved from annihilation during a time of extended famine. The silver was refined by fire and came out of the crucible pure and worthy to bear the hallmark of the king.7

Shortly after my conversion in 1982 I moved from Plymouth to Salisbury in Wiltshire, and have been based there ever since. In 1985 I was attending Wilton Baptist Church with my wife Ann and had been promoted to a deacon and youth leader. One day I was explaining to the young people how great it would be if we owned a bus to use for the purposes of evangelism. My idea was that with this bus we could drive around the area seeking to meet with unchurched young people in order to expose them to the gospel. The bus could offer a cafeteria like environment and would effectively operate as a mobile church building. Soon afterwards, a young man by the name of Sean Masterman who I had had the privilege of leading to Christ a few months earlier told me that there was a bus for sale in the village where his family lived; Market Lavington, also in Wiltshire. Soon afterwards we made a trip to Market Lavington and knocked on the door of the local chimney sweep, Mr John Kyte. Mr Kyte explained that though he owned a single decker bus it was not currently for sale but did offer to show us it if we were interested. We gladly accepted his offer and he took us for a ride around the village in his single decker, flat nosed Bristol bus. Though he said it was not for sale at the time, he did say that if he were to change his mind, the purchase price would be £1000. I gave him my telephone number and we returned to Salisbury. I confess that at the time I felt that we had not made a wasted journey and that something good would come from it.

I don’t know exactly how long it took before Mr Kyte contacted me, I suspect it was a couple of months. When he called me, and introduced himself to me with his broad Wiltshire accent, I was not entirely surprised. He then went on to tell me that he had decided to sell the bus in order to buy a caravan for himself and his wife, and asked me if I was still interested in buying it for £1000? Without any hesitation, I said that I would buy it and we agreed that the transaction would take place a month hence, which happened to be my birthday, May 17th.

Having agreed to go ahead with the purchase of the bus, which after all I determined was for the glory of God, I now needed the money to take possession of this much needed asset for the Kingdom of God. As the month progressed and there was no sign of the money coming in, I started to panic. By 16th May, the day before my birthday, I was a very troubled young man. I didn’t sleep well at all that night, and rose very early in the morning, mounted my bicycle and went for a long ride to try and deal with the fear and apprehension I was experiencing. I cycled out to a village called Coombe Bissett, 5 miles west of Salisbury, where I saw a poster outside a Baptist Church, (which I was later to become an elder in), picturing a man with a broad smile on his face and the caption, “Happy is the man who trusts in the Lord”8. Though I was experiencing great turmoil at the time, there was an underlying confidence that somehow, “God was in this”. These words, which I had never seen before in the Bible, gave me fresh hope. I then continued to cycle back to my home in Salisbury, by which time the apprehension had returned and all I could think of was how I was going to face Mr Kyte later that morning without the money. My wife gave me my birthday card, which to be honest it didn’t seem important to open at the time; but when I opened it, you could have knocked me over with a feather, as inside where the words, “Happy is the man who trusts in the Lord”. Before I left for Market Lavington later that morning, I prayed and meditated scripture from the book of Hebrews to give me courage. When I drove the 25 miles or so to Market Lavington, I wouldn’t have been surprised if an angel had jumped out in front of the car and presented me with £1000 in cash.

I arrived in market Lavington, parked my car and then walked to the home of the Kytes’. Everything within me wanted to run away from the situation, but I knew I must face these people whom I had let down so terribly. I knocked on the door and moments later Mr Kyte answered, he smiled and welcomed me into his home. With fear and trepidation I explained to him that I didn’t have the money for the bus, his wife who was sitting nearby immediately burst into tears; they had gone out and bought a caravan on the strength of the sale of the bus, and that day there was to be no sale. Mr Kyte was a powerful looking gentleman who I’m confident could have made mincemeat of me if he so desired, he was patently angry and yet showed no aggression to me. Having exhausted all apologies and tried to explain how my presumption in agreeing to buy the bus without hearing from God had led to this situation, I left their house and returned to Salisbury.

When I arrived at home, I saw that my Bible was open on the floor in the lounge where I’d left it. My eyes immediately fell on Hebrews chapter 11 v 35 which read, “Do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded, you need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what He has promised”. Despite the awfulness of the situation, the disgrace that I had brought to the name of my Saviour, I still had a confidence that somehow God was in this.

I wrote to Mr and Mrs Kyte and asked their forgiveness, I enclosed £50 as a gesture of my contrition; Mrs Kyte wrote back to me a letter laced with kindness and good advice that I should seek the wisdom of my elders in Christ before making such commitments in the future. I was greatly relieved by her forgiving attitude as the last thing I wanted to happen was that I would become a stumbling block to her and her husband and that they would think ill of my Lord and Saviour because of my actions.

During the next few years, and every time I thought about the bus, I would refer to it as My bus. I was no longer a youth leader or even attended the same church, but something indelibly imprinted on my heart told me that what had happened was not the end of the story. One day, I can’t remember precisely when, my wife and I were walking past the fire station in Salisbury when I saw My bus. It was parked on the fire station’s forecourt, locked up and with no sign of the owner. You can imagine my excitement, it had moved from Market Lavington to Salisbury and was parked within 200 m of my house. Shortly afterwards Ann and I were driving to the New Forest, and as we were leaving Salisbury I spotted the back of My bus parked down a lane, on our return we drove down the lane where we met the new owner of My bus. I asked him if he had bought it from John Kyte in Market Lavington for £1000, to which he replied that he had. I didn’t regale to him my story, but I knew that something was going to happen.

I saw the bus several times during the next few years and I remember the new owner saying to me on one occasion that if he ever decided to sell the bus, that he would give me first refusal. My hope was still alive.

You will remember that in chapter one I explained how God had spoken to me and told me that I would fly the paramotor that evening. What I omitted to mention at the time was that the Holy Spirit had spoken to me on the same section of road just two years before, again when driving back from work. On this occasion He said to me, “It’s time for the bus”. It was as simple and profound as that. The next day I called the National Playbus Association, an umbrella organisation which gives advice and offers professional services to facilitate the conversion and use of public service vehicles to be used in community projects, primarily but not exclusively for children. After I had explained to the gentleman, I spoke with what my interest was in using a bus. I asked him if he knew anyone who had one for sale, he replied, “Yes, we do”. I asked him how much he was selling his double-decker bus for? He replied that with VAT it was £6500. Ouch! At the time I had £100 surplus to my needs. I then asked him how soon they would need the money if we agreed to go ahead? He replied that they were looking to sell the bus as quickly as possible, and that the first person or organization to come up with the money would get it.

That evening, I met with my pastor and other leaders within the church. Incidentally, this was the same church that I had ridden past on 17th May some years past and seen the poster announcing that “Happy is the man who trusts in the Lord”. I explained to the group about the bus and we prayed that God’s will would become evident. If I remember correctly, £400 was given towards the bus that evening. The next day I called the National Playbus Association and made them an offer. I said that I would give them £500 immediately, with a view to paying the remainder in thirty days. The initial reaction from them was negative, even though I said that if we were unable to pay the outstanding balance by the agreed date, that they could keep the £500. All of a sudden, the gentleman I was dealing with switched his position and agreed to my offer, though a few moments earlier he was implacably opposed to it. “The Lord is surely in this”, I thought.

Thirty days later the balance was paid as agreed, the money was either given or loaned indefinitely to purchase the bus, but one donation deserves a special mention. One morning, a man of the road turned up at the Baptist Church in Combe Bissett, (the site the poster was displayed), the gentleman’s name was Dave and he had a strong Liverpudlian accent. He asked if we could give him something to eat and drink and one of the congregation went to the village shop to purchase him something to satisfy his appetite. When I spoke with Dave, I invited him to come along to our house fellowship one evening during the week. A couple of days later a small group from the church gathered in my home in Salisbury and Dave was amongst them. I shared with the group about the bus and how we needed the Lord to provide the necessary funds to complete the purchase. To my amazement Dave then offered to give us what he described as a wodge of money. I was amazed because this man, as far as I knew had nothing in the world apart from the filthy clothes in which he was dressed. Though he would not tell us, I suspect that he slept amongst the hay in farmyard barns. He then regaled the story of how he had come to be in possession of a wodge of money. A few days before he had been walking along a country road when he spied a number of £10 notes which he believed had fallen from a vehicle during wet weather and had been driven over by other vehicles so that they became like papier-mâché. He had recovered them from the ground and taken them to a police station in order to hand them in. The police had told him that he should retain them for six weeks and then call the station to see if anyone had reported them missing, if not he was entitled to keep them and could send them to the Bank of England for authentication and counting after which a cheque for the amount of currency could be sent out to him. I suspect that Dave did not have a bank account, but nevertheless his gesture of kindness not only touched my heart but also gave me added assurance of God’s hand on the acquisition of this bus.

Once we had purchased the bus, a team of people went to work converting it to a format which we could use for the purpose we acquired it. Upstairs we had a video lounge, counselling room and storeroom and downstairs we had a kitchen and cafeteria area as well as a 5.5 kW generator to provide all the power we needed to operate.

The Bible teaches that whatever a man sows, that also shall he reap9. Nine years before, whilst my wife was pregnant with our first child, I allowed a man by the name of Ashley McGuirl to sleep on the settee in our lounge. Ashley was homeless at the time and was struggling with hard drug addiction. Though he was a believer in Jesus Christ he had not found deliverance from drugs.

At the same time, my wife Ann was pregnant with our first child and was finding Ashley’s presence in the house particularly difficult as she wanted to prepare the ‘nest’ for the new arrival. Ann wanted Ashley to leave our house, but I knew that he didn’t have anywhere else to go to and so I didn’t acquiesce to her demands. In protest, Ann moved out of the house and in to Bed and Breakfast accommodation. I regret to this day not putting my wife first, (whether she was right or wrong isn’t the issue), however, I mention this event because nine years later, during a harsh winter, Ashley McGuirl single handedly painted our very large double decker bus from one end to the other, every night for two weeks working from midnight till 8 o’clock each morning; it brings tears to my eyes just thinking of the sacrifice he made to get ‘our’ bus, (which incidentally was named the Je-bus as it was no longer mine it belonged to somebody whose name began with the letters Je) ready for the King’s service.

Sadly, Ashley was found dead in his flat a couple of years later, his body having finally succumbed to the ravages of heroin. I had the privilege of speaking at his funeral and giving hope to all those who attended, that on the authority of scripture I could assure them that our friend Ashley McGuirl was no longer tormented by addiction to this evil drug, but was enjoying living in his new eternal body in the glorious presence of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

During the 5 years we operated the Je-Bus many people came aboard and were shown hospitality and love and heard that Jesus Christ died that they may have new life. One day as I was stopped at the traffic lights outside of Tesco in Salisbury, the young man who had purchased the bus from John Kyte cycled up to my driver’s window and said, “I see that you got your Bristol then”, up to then it hadn’t occurred to me that the bus we finally ended up with was a double decker version of the one I thought to have bought from John Kyte years earlier. It was more than twice as big and all I had to pay was £100. What a glorious God we serve.