ALL MY TOMORROWS -Part Two-

Well, it wasn’t the ITC; I loved my time there and being a “Messenger of Joy”. It was such a privilege and friendships made there have kept and sustained me through many years. It wasn’t a love-hate relationship with DHQ. After my previous experience on DHQ I had little or no expectations of them as anything more than a support when I asked for it and an administrative office, yet in my various appointments I did question many times the validity of the many bits of paper I used to delight at sending out. Statistical Forms, E111 Covenant Forms, Transfer Forms, Songster Brigade Membership Certificates, Corps Cadet Lessons, not to mention the Divisional Commander’s Circular! Small forests must have died each week as I reflect on the amount of paperwork that we generated at DHQ, which as an Officer I dreaded landing on the mat each Friday morning.

I think what turned me away from the Army was the inward looking attitudes and the ever annoying feeling that we were living on former glory. Collecting for the Annual Appeal (as was then) and asking for money for the good works that we did, when for the majority of Salvationists in my Corps good works meant learning the latest Jubilee Series Band Piece or having a starring role in the most recent Larsson/Gowan’s musical. Officership was also a lonely road at times. I didn’t want to be called Lieutenant or Captain – I was Alison, who was just like everyone else – called by God to follow Him, but this concept was
alien to that small number of difficult people who sought to put the officer on a pedestal only throw balls at me and knock me off as soon as I started to wobble a bit.

Is that why I resigned? No not really. Too many short hop appointments, too very small badly maintained quarters with damp, being so far away from my network of family and friends, feeling at times that no one really knew me or cared when my marriage went through a bad time. So many mitigating circumstances come together before a decision is made, and all the above culminated in the decision to resign. The first year after was a dying experience. As the leaves fell from the trees that autumn I willed them to hang on for grim death, yet as the final one fell I knew it was God’s time to move on.







As a Baptist Minister life is very different and yet similar. My Church Secretary despairs with “the Officer within me” that would seek to do all things regardless of help around me, although I think I’ve come a long way. I have never really missed the Band and Army worship, because I just love contemporary worship and used to get quite frustrated by the reluctance to embrace it within the Corps where I served. Whilst leading a united Women’s service a few years ago I met with a retired Colonel who 'sussed' (figured out) me out. She said she knew I used to be an Officer, she could tell (Must have been the imprint the bonnet left on my head!). She spoke to me about Salvationist spirituality, in a world where Celtic and Ignatian spirituality are often sought after (reflective); she recognised that there is a Salvationist spirituality that we shared and she identified within me. A spirituality with its sleeves rolled up. A spirituality that had real compassion for the poor, that flung wide the doors to the whosoever, that embraced the wretched and had compassion on the lost. That never stopped saying Hallelujah in the face of defeat. I drove home that day embracing the past in a new way as I ministered in my new situation.

This week I will stand at the Communion Table as the Bread and Wine is passed among the congregation and remember the words of that Albert Osborne Song: “My life must be Christ’s Broken Bread, my love his outpoured wine”. Suddenly the past and the present come together in a moment of complete surrender. The seven year old who knelt at the Mercy Seat in Openshaw Citadel impressed and moved by the Founder’s words and declaring to God: “The Lord shall have all there is of Alison Randle”, has never really wavered from her first obedient response.

In the ITC each Monday morning we would have some retired Officer come and testify to us in the spot called “This is my story, this is my song”. I would listen with keenness as stories were shared with us and I would wonder what my story would be, at their time of life. I never imagined I would be where I am today, and yet this is such an exciting journey and I am still happy to declare that "having asked God for forgiveness, I am still trusting him to keep me good, for today and and all my tomorrows"*. and all my tomorrows. d all my tomorrows. ll my tomorrows. (* from the Junior Soldier Promise)
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Alison Mackay
Former
UKT