My Wife and Mercy

My wife Grace stood next to me on the bridge over Lake Burley Griffin in Canberra, Australia, admiring the Captain Cook Memorial jets as they climbed high into the sky.

"Thank you Tim for bringing us to this lovely city," I said. Beyond, reflected in the Lake, was the American-Australian Memorial. Behind and to our right was Capital Hill with its lovely Government buildings. The whole city was neatly laid out, with streets radiating away from Capital Hill like the spokes of a wheel; we were on the northerly one called, not surprisingly, Northbourne Avenue.

Our friends, Tim and Mercy, were beside us, also admiring the sights, holding hands like young lovers. Their love was indeed young and was a delight to watch. Grace and I had been married for the last 9 years and we had settled into a comfortable routine so now spending time with the two lovers served to rekindle our love for each other. To be sure, my wife had much in common with the other two; they used to sing together in the choir at the church where we had all belonged back in Kenya, and I could be said to be the odd one out. But any stranger seeing us together would never have guessed such. In the months preceding our departure from the land of our birth to come here, we had become very close.

I had first met Tim at one of the numerous functions their choir was always involved in. I had gone to pick my wife up, and I could see that in such a large group (there were 40-50 of them at any given time and they boasted a member roll of 70 choristers) they formed very good relationships. Tim seemed to bring out the mischievous side of my wife and their conversation was filled with wisecracks which never failed to make me laugh. Mercy was their very capable Choir Director and as time went on I came to learn that even such dedicated servants of the Lord could have trouble in their lives; her husband had abandoned her and their two daughters. She was also Grace's best friend. Indeed during the toughest times in Mercy's life, she would often come to visit us. Yet to see her in church singing with her whole being immersed in the music gave no hint of such unhappiness in her life. Grace told me that Tim was a divorced father of three —"two twen-agers and a teenager" as he liked to put it. It must be something to do with the joy the Lord pours into the lives of those who love Him as none of that was evident in his manner. He always seemed very jovial and well-liked by all, including the older women in the choir. At various events as I watched these people I was continually amazed at how they formed such a cohesive group.

One time it was announced in church that they would go into a neighbouring country on a singing and preaching mission. We half-expected to be told to support them with funds, but all that happened was a collection taken up after the usual one, to add to the number of chairs they intended to take to the newly-established church. Five days later they came back full of stories of schools, orphanages, baby homes they had visited and which made a powerful impact on them as well. The church in that city was strengthened by the visit and it filled me with wonder how such a large group could displace themselves nearly 700km and return with not a single incident-one or two people had gotten headaches, but that was all. Surely the Lord's hand was over them.

Something must have happened while they were away because on Mercy's very next visit to our house after that unbelievable trip she came accompanied by Tim. A lazy Saturday afternoon was transformed when these three were together in my house. Though I took part in the conversation, it was driven mostly by the two women. In the next few months we were amazed to discover that we all had a dream to move to Australia.

"Just imagine! We could all find ourselves in the same country!" exclaimed Mercy, causing a shiver of excitement to run through each one of us. Tim and Mercy intended to settle in Perth, while we had connections in Adelaide. The maps did not give us a clear idea of the distances between the two places. Little did we realise that we would be more than 2,000km apart! At any rate, our papers had been lodged earlier and so we were further along the path to final approval. Many was the evening we spent praying together about the process we were all going through. Finally during the week that Grace and I were set to leave, we rejoiced together that the High Commission had approved the addition of Tim's name to Mercy's migration application, since she had the better points score, and could fare better as the "principal migrant". Typical of him, he was very good-natured about being the "dependant". Apart from our friends and relatives, Tim and Mercy were also at the airport to see us off. Many tears were shed on the realisation that it would be a long time before we saw them again. One bright spot was our two friends. They kept us up-to-date with frequent emails and SMS's about the progress of their application until finally they arrived in the country sometime in the last month.

So now here we all were in Canberra, taking in the sights of our new country. They had flown in to Adelaide from Perth and together we had driven east into Victoria around the mountains called the Grampians. The university town of Ballarat had really impressed us with its late nineteenth century buildings. We had stayed three days in and around Melbourne, making a dash south to Geelong and back in the late afternoon.

We left along the famous Hume Highway north-east through that beautiful country where one can ski in May and June, the so-called Australian Alps. Typical of Grace, she made fun of Mt Buller being next to Mt Buffalo, but we all loved Mt Bogong; even Mercy could not resist reference to that Masai town to the south Nairobi! The town of Yackandandah, just off our route, threw Tim and Grace into paroxysms of their most mischievous, "kandanda" being the Swahili word for football or soccer. Along Hume Highway we came to Canberra from the south.

The principal reason for coming here was the eternal tourist in Tim who had told us endless stories about travel in Australia. He had read tourist guides and pored endlessly over maps. Indeed we intended to continue with Hume right up to Sydney, but the two lovers wanted to register their de-facto relationship at the Civic Centre here in the capital. It could have been done in their state or when they arrived in Adelaide but we all felt a silliness and a romanticism about Grace and I being witnesses to their wedding in this most beautiful city in the world. We all agreed that its manicured neatness could not be matched anywhere, not even Switzerland; there was a neatness to the wedding when all four of us present, too.

I can see that we are going to have a very good time in this country we have adopted to be our own. The coming years can only fill me with anticipation.