with our grandchildren in Tampa this last week of June 2021, I showed Priscilla’s picture above to grand daughter Liv. Her response these days,
‘Goodbye to by past self’ and Grandma’s Priscilla’s response to our Liv, ‘ goodbye to my present self.’
It is good, a good practice to say ‘goodbye’ – yes – to presents and pasts; to previous selfs and present, momentary ones.
It is good to say ‘goodbyes.’
Above are some images from Priscilla’s birthday ( more will follow )
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‘So your contract with Stewardship is two years in London? Two years is a very short time for developing relationships in the UK.’
This was part of my opening conversation with my Vicar from St. Luke’s in Kentish Town, London, In March in February 2013.
It has taken Priscilla and me almost two years to fully absorb the full extent and meaning of these words. People have been very open to us here. But I come back to Jon’s words.
What is their meaning today, 30 October?
We have committed to stay in London; we need to live and love here.
A long story short.
We prayed and sought counsel. Three people who did not really know each other said this sentence exactly to Priscilla and myself:
‘Your work has just began here; we, you have just gotten started.’
To hear this exact phrase from 3 different people in one week we feel & reason it are not individuals speaking but The Lord.
So, NYC friends and family know
This was the hardest hardest decision we have ever made as a couple. Those who know us know I roll with and into big decisions; Priscilla processes everything. I processed this decision; she made a relatively quick decision
Learning point: we change; he leads; we grow
So…
Some new news
We have to move from Hampstead for a variety of reasons; it has been a beautiful time here but we need to move
Our new flat is 49 York Street # 2 in Westminster W1H 1PU. It is as Central London in a nice area-(our Tube stop is Bakers street!) and we are ten minutes by Tube from Paddington station and right by both Hyde and Regents parks.
Our landlords are a lovely lovely Christian couple. The husband is an Elder in a PCA church in the UK (one of the few here) we hopefully will be there 10 December.
Stewardship is renewing my contract and is giving me great flexibility in timing and working from home. (In the /our States home) My latest writings you can register and see
(Ctrl+Click the above here)
Priscilla spoke at St Luke’s on 20 October for the women’s meeting on vulnerability from chapters 1 & 2 of Nehemiah.
Sadly, Priscilla fell on 23 October and broke her wrist in 3 places. Hospital care here is great; lovely. She has 2 plates in her arm and is resting and recovery. Simply put: she tripped.
But as my friend Ben said: She got three broken bones in her wrist; Boy I would hate to see the other guys face
He looks bad.
We are well.
Love
Dear Family and Friends,
We have been having a very happy and busy July summer. Several of our friends from the US have visited early July (Hi John and Mike & Jon Lin and Ellice and Karis and Ji Son & Tim, Kathy & Michael!) and they all stayed in our one bedroom flat, Osewalt style!!
(Just kidding-we only had the pleasure of two of the above-though we spent time with all above and it was wonder filled)
It addition-expectantly –in met two New Yorkers in London on the tube. Cheryl and Ed-from our Fellowship group in Redeemer Church saw Priscilla on the tube and came over to greet us. (Cheryl did not recognize Charlie-due to the weight lost)
They are living in Hampstead-our home town!!! We had a lovely dinner with them and can not believe His blessings on renewing fellowship in a new way.
We also have had the pleasure of visiting some dear Brit friends in Devon and then some other friends in the Lake District mid July. The weather on these days was beyond anyone’s possible expectations: warm in the days, but not sunny; cool but not cold in the evenings. (Buses and most tubes do not have air conditioning here. It is mostly not needed-but this fact illustrates one of the differences between NYC and London: public areas air conditioning, one place has it; the other doesn’t.)
The sky here becomes more beautiful with each passing hour. Clouds move and change; we feel as though God’s hands are reaching down to touch and guide us each passing moment. We only have to look up and see to feel Him. And we are.
Two years ago, we would not physically been have been able to go hiking on the Downs at Dartmoor (https://www.google.co.uk/?gws_rd=ssl#q=pictures+at+Dartmoor+trust+park) or hiking around the Lake District, but now, in God’s wonder and mercy, He is allowing these dry bones to live again.
Brits say, “Brilliant, fantastic,’ and they are right. Priscilla was laughing this morning as she shared with a friend how funny it was when she slipped and sank her foot down into a little riverbed as we hiked along and how Priscilla was afraid of the ‘huge’ cows, who she thought could be bulls and the very large rams that were watching as we passed by.
The joy of living in these moments with friends and family give me renewed strength to dare I say it, “carry on” (Charlie is still working on the ‘Keep calm’ bit)
The last weekend of July we spoke at 3 day Brethren church retreat on listening (the teachings-in 5 parts-can be found in draft form here: http://www.charlesosewalt.com) The weekend went –again-beyond our prayerful expectations of our time here.
Each day brings new challenges. But these times of refreshment and renewal have given us time to reflect and thank God for his word, Ezekiel 37:14,” I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Than you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, “declares The Lord. God’s Spirit enlivens us wherever He settles us.
Pray for ‘contentment’ as we seek His place for us in 2015. Please feel free to offer any words that you are lead to share concerning how you think/feel He may be leading us as we consider next steps: either return to NYC or staying in the UK.
We are wishing we could have you all with us
Rev. 12:11
> ‘They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony;they did not live their lives so much as to shrink from death.’
> Dear family, friends & readers,
As we come through January, we take a look back over the years with wonder and thank God for what He has done in spite of our enemies.
> In 1974, when I was diagnosed with Lupus, I felt my life was over. The hopes and dreams I had seemed to be lost and shattered. I had a disease, I was just 25 and the future losses seemed overwhelming, like the drizzly London weather splashing away my dreams,worn away more and more with each passing day, relentless losses and the pain of trying to recover, knowing full well the Lupus or Wolf was waiting around the next corner to devour, marriage, children and career. Gone.
> My Mom came faithfully to my bedside. We read a psalm a day and because of the overload of steroids and episodes of memory loss, all I could recall each day was the word of God written to me and read by my mother. How could I get out of this pit.
> Sounds so simple, just Gods word read and live out, loved and treasured by my Mom , family and friends. She left this world to be with Jesus about 10 or more years ago. She left me her Bible. He answered, first through His word; then through Charles; then through my children, Elizabeth, Sarah, Deardra and Joey. Now through my ‘grand’ children. And all ways through all of you who know me and read me and pray with me.
> I look now see my Grandson Sam, his third birthday and a joy to us all. I thank God for his mighty power working in all of us who love him.
> Charlie while working for Stewardship U K worked on a book that I am reading now called “It’s a God thing ,when miracles happen to everyday people’ It is created by Don Jacobson and you can get it at Amazon. I am reading one story a night as I end my day,along with my bible. Stories, writing yourself into your story is what I am doing here.
> There is great peace in hearing the great cloud of witnesses sharing their stories here.
> All stories are about how God and his wonderful word is being worked in and lived in their lives. So my dear family and friends and readers when we look back together this January, may we find the blessed peace that God gives through our lives lived out in him. Remembering is good as God himself is. we are his story, his message, a letter, 2 Corinthinans 3: 3 ‘You yourselves are our letter…you are a letter from Christ.’
God bless you all. Priscilla
this is the last of ‘MYC’ pictures of priscilla from our city, MYC. What is MYC? MYC has been pictures of Priscilla, myself and our children and granchildren.
My city is where Priscilla my wife of 33 years is. The pictures of her and our children and our grandchildren are called MNYC on this blog: my NYC. Our city now is London. People we meet in the UK sometimes ask, ‘Where are you from?’ We both say as one voice ‘Hampstead, London.’ Some then ask, ‘Where are you originally from?’
We are orginally from MYC. The book of Hebrews describes MYC,
Hebrews 11:
13-16 Each one of these people of faith died not yet having in hand what was promised, but still believing. How did they do it? They saw it way off in the distance, waved their greeting, and accepted the fact that they were transients in this world. People who live this way make it plain that they are looking for their true home. If they were homesick for the old country, they could have gone back any time they wanted. But they were after a far better country than that—heaven country. You can see why God is so proud of them, and has a City waiting for them.
Our city, I believe, has many things, many peoples, many tears. I believe it is full of swans, children and granchildren; friends and family; Brits and Americans; daughters and adopted daughters. And a son, Joey.
meditation 10: ‘Spirited Away’
fruit of the spirit, kind gentleness-Beauty is…kindness & gentleness, working together as one fruit
People can be raised, born with gentleness, with ‘kind’ touches, voices and seeing yet not probing eyes. Their ‘kindness’ comes in large part from their gentle characters. Some are even born with this ‘gentle’ gift. Some are raised to be gentle. Christians, though, are to be ‘spirited away.’ We are fruit; and we are made, ‘spirited’ by a gift. Then we become one fruit with multiple rich, exotic tastes. Our lives are what are being tasted, by others, our lovers, our children, our family, our friends and community. Ourselves. We are to become gentle kindness.
As I practice the kindness I am not borne but gifted with, I become gentle. Spirited kindness creates gentleness in me. I was borne neither gentle nor kind. I was raised with wolves. Niccolo Machiavelli said in ‘The Prince@ that ‘a man who strives after goodness in all his acts is sure to come to ruin, since there are so many men who are not good.’ Yes, Nick. Quite correct. If I strive, I die in ruin. But if I am ‘Spirited…
Slowly I am reformed in another, His, image. This is the practice of a Christian walk; it is practice and fruit of the spirit. I cannot do it by my own will for any sustained period. If I try on my own, if I strive, l become a Real Zombie soon enough; created by my own sinful desire, without His Spirit. A hallow man. A Zombie who can’t feel; can’t taste. I devour what I see more and more. Even the desire to be ‘goodness’ will devour. I taste nothing. I become Zombies, yes Zombies in the plural. Multiple, real real aspects of my own sinful desires that seek to become flesh, my own flesh and blood. Zombies. And I battle them every day. Sinful desires that also want my Spirit. And I lose some days. But other days I am healed. I become real, living, Spirited.
Paul speaks of how a hurt brother or sister is to be restored in Galatians: ‘Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted’. Galatians 6:1
Paul is telling us, me, a Real Zombie can come back to a living being. We Zombies just need gentleness, kind gentleness. How? Who heals?
Gently, as a physician setting or putting in place a broken bone. That is how. That is the meaning of the English word “restore.” ‘Restore’ translates a Greek word (katartizein), a word with multiple meanings. Its primary meaning as a Greek word is ‘to set a broken bone.’ A broken bone is both painful and useless. The broken leg doesn’t walk. The broken hand doesn’t hold. The broken limb simply doesn’t work. And it is painful. Pain needs, thirsts for gentleness, kindness. My definition of ‘restore’ is Spirited. Physicans gently restore spirit by the Spirit. That is my thirst, a desire to taste His Spirit.
Years past I was hit by a car when crossing a street. My leg was shattered in two places. After many months I started physiotherapy. I will never forget my first day in the physio office: directly across the way from me in an adjoining room sat a woman gently caressing her leg, recently broken and slowly healing. There was, there is something about a gentle touch that heals; even if you do it to, for, yourself. And we, she, did not do it once but many times, back and forth her hands moved over her scarred leg. We need this touch to be, to become human. And then we need the Spirit’s touch to become more than human, but never less than ourselves. We need the Spirit’s touch o become like Him. A living touch that is not afraid to reach out and heal, even a Zombie that threatens to devour. A gentle, kind touch.
This is fruit: gentleness and kindness working together. One is begetting the other; kindness growing as a child forming other acts of kindness. This is His Spirit.: fruit bearing fruit, gentleness forming/engendering kindness. Kindness, in its turn creating gentleness. Goodness ruining evil.
Taste and see; taste and envision; taste fruit of His Spirit and live. This is living fruit that gives life. Good Life. His life. He is good.
meditation 9: fruit of the spirit, goodness
What is goodness? Can anyone be ‘good?’ Any act? Any purpose?
As I look at myself, for own motives, loves, looking and coveting, speaking solely for my own heart and self, my answer is “No, not good, not me.”
I can say this because I have glimpses of goodness. From others. Brief compelling can’t stop thinking about glimpses. My heart replays these vary rare views over and over, over and over. They are so rare; I don’t recognise them at first. Here is a recent one.
Priscilla, my wife, is goodness. Yes, at times she is angry, forgetful, and full of self. But at small, very key life moments, she rises. Her goodness empowered by the spirit shines as a new moon in a clear night sky, or a moving piece of music. She, immediately and without thought, is’ good.’ It is her first instinct.
In mid June I saw an advert for a local Proms concert. St. Jude’s church in Golders Green was to have Sir Willard White sing. Priscilla knew him over 40 years ago at a small church in NYC, The Bronx Household of Faith. She always spoke fondly of him and was excited to see that he was in the UK. I booked two of the last three tickets available and Priscilla called the church to leave a message.Can you please tell Mr White that Priscilla from the Bronx Household of Faith will be at the concert? She would love to say ‘hello.’Graciously, the church and the person Priscilla spoke to assured her that they would leave him her contact information.
We heard nothing in the week between her call and the event. Very excited that Friday, in a slight rain, we arrived to a packed house. When we picked up our tickets, Priscilla again explained to a kind steward how she knew Sir Willard. The event staff listened attentively and assured her Sir Willard would get her hand written note. Ours seats were in the first row off to the side. We went in.‘Perfect ‘was Priscilla’s response to our seats: she could see him; and he might recognise her, though people change.
Sir Willard came on; he had not changed significantly except for the greying of age in his hair. He looked well and sang with power and zeal. He opened with a number of German classical pieces that shared the subject of death. He sang, at times with real power. The interval came. He and his accompanist left the stage.
As a little girl, Priscilla needed vanilla ice cream to cool her excitement. Returning to her, I spoke to another steward. Yes, Sir Willard would leave the stage at the end of the performance and he would ensure she could have a brief moment with him.
The second act began. My sense of the evening was that of a man singing of death in a place of risen celebration, a church. He seemed a performer, not a worshipper of anything, even his own performance. Needless to say, the evening closed. Priscilla waited and told me how he sang ‘My Wild Irish Rose’ to her in New York before she knew me. The Head steward waited with us at the exit. Sir Willard never appeared. He ducked out to avoid her, my Priscilla.
And here, here, is where I saw goodness. Myself, I was angry Not even a ‘hello.’ He purposely avoided her, as though she was a stalker. In the Head Steward’s word to me: ‘really, he could use the fans; the work.’ Standing by the exit door till the last possible moment Priscilla said ‘Thank you.’ As we walked to our transport she said, ‘Church must have hurt him. He must be hurting deeply.’I asked her is she was hurting; wasn’t she angry? How insensitive…Priscilla said looking down, ‘You don’t know what he has been though. I have my memory of his singing for me.’How generous; how good.
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