Break Free • 8-9
PK Events re-engineered for a fresh focus and even better results
Tama Tane Malosi -
Refreshed & Released •5 Ministry with Men New Pastors’ Conference Webinars •7
Mighty Men of Valour • 3 First ever Samoan Language Event and Breakout
New Webinars launched
Brian France During Hitler’s fire-bombing blitz on London during World War II my family were bombed out of their home and they moved to a council estate in Dagenham, where I was born. Down the road lived Twiggy, the world famous fashion model, and round the corner was the comedian Dudley Moore. Terry Venables, who became a well known football manager, was “one of the boys”. My family were not Christians and I grew up being told that “seeing is believing”. So anything relating to God or the supernatural was not part of our worldview. Some years later when I became a Christian, it never dawned on me that the Bible was telling me something quite different. I assumed that when Jesus walked on water there must have been a sand bar under His feet.
When He fed the 5,000, the loaves and fishes must have provoked the people to get out their sandwiches. When He restored sight to the blind, well, I never worked that one out and I never thought the day would come when I would receive a miracle. I was serving as a Platoon Commander in Northern Ireland in the early 1970s during the time of the “Troubles” when the Irish Republican Army (IRA) was endeavouring by force of terrorism to have the six Northern Counties reunited with the rest of Ireland. Two-thirds of the people didn’t want reunification and so the terrorism with its bombings, snipers, petrol bombs, sectarian murders, kneecappings and bloodshed continued. The Royal Air Force Regiment had been deployed in Northern Ireland as part of the peacekeeping forces for some years and this was my third tour of duty there.
I was now responsible for the security of the Walled City of Londonderry. It was early March, the weather was cold and damp, but I felt no sympathy for my men who were on the streets providing mobile and standing patrols. They searched cars and pedestrians alike, looking for weapons and explosives, whilst all the time running the risk of sniper fire, petrol bombs and stonethrowing mobs. They were on duty twelve to fourteen hours a day in all weathers and stoically did everything that was asked of them. Saturday morning dawned fine and clear. The city was in the process of coming to life, shops were starting to open, people were beginning to move around, and then the bombs started to explode. By the time the third bomb had detonated and three buildings had been destroyed, leaving a number of casualties, I realised the IRA were targeting my sector and were looking to give us a real Continued on page 4