After we received our shipment of furniture from South Africa, I decided that I was ready for the next move and visited an employment agency to help me get back to work and earn a bit of money. Hendrik could only work for the company that applied for the work permit, while I, as a dependant of a work permit holder with a visa, could work anywhere. I started temping for a gas and oil exploration company in Hounslow, London.

 

I met some interesting people there. One of the guys was a Nigerian called Patrick Ogunjimi who taught me something very valuable. He said when he walked through the High Street in town and salespeople accosted him, he would pull up his shoulders and say, “Nô English. Nô English.” Then they let him be. Hendrik and I decided that it would work for us after a drug addict in France accosted us while begging for money. When we told her “No French”, she just switched to English. We looked at each other and Hendrik replied in Afrikaans: “Ons verstaan nie Engels nie!”

 

It is interesting for me to look back at all the different companies I worked for in my life, from local councils and banking to coal distribution, electronics, private hospitals, oil & grease, helicopters, remote control cars, and I cannot after living near to Cheddar, miss out on a cheese company. What was that all about? When I finally started working for Riverside Vineyard Church in Feltham years later, I could see how all my work and life experience came together in the perfect job for me. That was the final and best job ever.

 

But here I was, still in Twickenham, every morning walking to catch the bus. I got used to all the neighbours catching the bus with me every morning and all the funny little things some English people do. I remember the first day I arrived at my bus stop with my umbrella. The clouds looked a bit on the dark and heavy side that morning, and I didn’t want to get caught in the rain. There was a gentleman (I choose to call him that, even though he wasn’t very gentle) at the bus stop, he gave me this filthy look and said, “Why do you have to come and jinx the weather?” I tried hard not to burst out laughing. A lot of English people are very superstitious. But I must say, some people will carry their brolly with a sense of pride. Owning a high-quality proper-size umbrella is almost a sign of your social status. If you don’t want to get a filthy jinxed look, best you keep a fold-up piece of something depicting an umbrella in your pocket. But the wind soon breaks or folds them in two, and they all end up in the bin.

 

There was a lady that always passed my house and at times when I started my journey to the bus stop, at the same time, we would walk together. The front door and windows of one of the houses were wide open. It looked like they were house cleaning or moving. My fellow traveller almost came to a standstill to investigate the house, and she said “I’m not nosy. I’m not nosy. Did you see their big sofa?”

 

It was wonderful to start getting more English people to join our home group. One night we were talking about our jobs, and one South African guy who was a quantity surveyor, talked about how the last project he worked on in South Africa was for something like 250,000 Rand. (That was back in 2001.) When he started his job in England, his first job was something like £25,000,000.00. I was amused when the British guy, vividly shocked, piped up asking him “What did you do?” I could see from the look on the South African guy’s face that he didn't understand the question, “I went ahead and did the job” he said. I told the English couple, “There is one thing you should know about South Africans. We are too stupid to think we cannot do something. That is what happens when you have a trade embargo against you.”

It is true. When a boss of mine asked me once to complete an important document for a licence, I got on and did it. When I asked our Accountant to look over it and give me his okay, he was flabbergasted. He told me that is the work they usually do, and he thought I did a good job. He only changed four words in the summary at the end. That is how I learned to become a bookkeeper. When I didn’t know how to do it, I looked back on what others had done before and got on with the job.

 

I would have loved to buy that house in Twickenham when the owners decided to sell, but there was no way that we could get a big enough deposit together for a mortgage. House prices were exorbitant and so was the rental. When we finally sold our property back in South Africa and brought the money over, it was only about £3,000. So, we had to move again, and we found out that house rentals were much cheaper in Maidenhead Berkshire, a town outside and close to the M25, which is the ring road around London.

 

I resigned from my job, as it was too far to travel to Hounslow. I did some temping work at a car dealership for a while, until I decided to help at the church office, at a time when their administrator resigned. After a few months, the church employed me to work full-time. I got a lift with Hendrik into Hayes, London where he worked, and he would drop me off in front of the train station where all the buses came past. From there I took a bus that dropped me off, right in front of the Church Office in Feltham.

 

There were times we felt nothing was happening other than getting on with life. But then there were those moments when you knew that God is with you, He loves you with an everlasting love, and He hasn’t forgotten about you. God’s time is not our time and He knows more than us, as to when it is the right time. 2 Peter 3:8 (NIV) But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.

During one of these stagnant times, I was sick and wasn’t at church. One of the ladies in our church sent me a bunch of half-dead white roses with Hendrik. She was very apologising, saying she felt the Lord told her to get me a bunch of white roses. At that moment I already had tears in my eyes. But, she said, when she went shopping, she could not find any white roses. Instead she found a bunch of beautiful pink roses, but she felt the Lord insisted that they must be white roses. She said she didn’t understand why He was insisting on it being white roses. The only white roses she could find in all the stores were not fresh, but she got them anyway. I told her that I knew exactly why they had to be white. It was my only favourite flower. That matters to Him, and so do I.

 

One morning in the car as Hendrik and I made our way to work, I took my wedding rings off to put cream on my hands. At around ten in the morning at work, I realised that I didn’t have my rings on. I recalled taking them off in the car and concluded that I must have dropped them there. I immediately phoned Hendrik, and he went to look in the car, but they were not there. He decided to go to the spot he dropped me off and looked around, and there they were, one on the pavement and one on the road. It is a busy road and a busy sidewalk, as it is right at the entrance to the station where so many buses stop. God knew that more than anything else, they had sentimental value.

 

There is one funny thing that happened to me on that bus route. As per usual, I got on the bus one morning after Hendrik dropped me off. I used to sit on this long seat right behind the bus driver. The position of this seat was in the direction of the length of the bus and elevated. Almost like you sit on a stage for everyone else on the bus to see you, from head to toe. Well, that is what it always felt like for me. Later that day at work, I went to the bathroom and when I looked down, I saw for the first time that I was wearing one shoe and one sandal. I have never laughed so much. When they heard me scream with laughter, they sent another lady into the bathroom to check if I was okay. I realised that my feet were quite hidden in the car and behind my desk but not on the bus! A pity it was not on at the West End.

 

We raised a couple to take over our home group. The devil was always busy trying to discourage us and cause havoc. There was a time when Hendrik and I were ‘cluster leaders’, overseeing a few home groups. One night we had a special group meeting for all our small group leaders. We started with worship and during this time, I had a picture of someone with blood on her hands, and I knew who it was for as well. But because it was so gruesome, I mentioned only the picture and then gave the scripture I got from Romans 8:1 “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

At the end during ministry time, I made my way over to her and told her that I felt that word was for her and asked if I could pray for her. She tried to convince me that she was okay and that she didn’t need prayer, but I could see her trying to avoid looking me in the eyes. I told her to call someone else then, but she needs prayer. A week later her husband found out that she was having an affair with another man she worked with. More people than just her husband got hurt in the process. It was so heartbreaking, and one feels so helpless. Ultimately, they belong to the Lord, and their Lord and Saviour is responsible for putting things right. After their divorce, he did marry again and had two beautiful kids, but we do not know what happened to her.

 

This is not the only time we had to go through such hurt with some of our leaders. Only recently we had another case, although not quite the same. It affected all the leaders, their families and the people inside the church. I remember feeling completely consumed with grief and didn’t know how to move on. I was crying out to God, and I immediately heard His stern voice, “Enough Leonie! Enough! Far more are redeemable than you think.” I came undone. How good is our God? How great are His mercies? To His love, there is no end. Let us be quick to fall at His feet and confess our sins, for His mercies are new every morning.

 

Way back at Riverside Vineyard, we were now overseeing about four home group leaders, and it was wonderful to see the people getting on with the task of pastoring a small group of people. Belonging to a group was the main aim, as that is where you find community, grow in your faith and discover the voice of God’s call.

Our assistant pastor asked us to go to the home of a lovely guy in a wheelchair. He had Fibromyalgia and although he had a group of people that met at his home for a while, they all left in the end. He had a big dog that was so well trained, he did everything including opening the door for him so he could just wheel himself out. He was such a lovely person and capable enough to lead the group, but we soon found out why his group died down. This dog never left his side, and the dog had a habit of farting, and the smell was dreadful. It was a homegroup killer. Interesting how off-putting that can be.