Diane has dreamt of making a difference since visiting a hospital at a rural mission station as a child

A special needs teacher from Every Nation Church is giving up her career to help Aids orphans in South Africa full-time.

Diane Fick, 40, will swap her flat in leafy South Ealing, west London, for a rugged farm in the mountains outside Grabouw – an hour’s drive east of Cape Town – in pursuit of a lifelong dream.

The farm is the site of the Thembalitsha Village of Hope, which provides a home to young children who have lost their families because of Aids.

“From my childhood I’ve had a passion for children and for helping impoverished people,” said Diane, who grew up in South Africa and came to London seven years ago.

“Coming to my 40th birthday I started thinking about what I really wanted to do and hadn’t done yet.”

She realised that she could personally make a difference in people’s lives – particularly children. “And I realised that if I didn’t do it now, it wouldn’t happen.”

Grabouw, a town in the heart of South Africa’s stone fruit industry, has the country’s highest dual infection rate of tuberculosis and HIV/Aids. One in three people of the town’s 50,000 residents is living with HIV or Aids.

In 2006 Thembalitsha, a charity with strong links to the Every Nation churches in Cape Town, set up a ThembaCare hospice for dying Aids patients in Grabouw.

Their treatment with advanced anti-retroviral drugs has been so successful that 80 per cent of their 320 in-patients, all of whom were at death’s door, fully recovered and went on to live normal lives.

More than a third of those patients were young children. But although they regained their health, some of the youngsters had nowhere to go after leaving the clinic.

And so the idea for the Village of Hope was born: a place which these children can be loved and cared for until they are integrated back into their community.

“It’s actually a village – a caring community, a village of hope giving hope to a lost generation,” Diane said.

“They then feed the kids back into communities to live within their culture, monitored by social workers.”

The Village of Hope was founded by Tim and Maz Walker, a British couple from Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, in October 2008.

The Walkers, who have three grown children, left behind their established lives to practise their Christian faith on the frontline of the battle against Aids.

Khanyile, aged 14 months, with Sister Joyce van der Berg at the ThembaCare hospice in Grabouw. The little boy, who was dying of Aids, was nursed back to health at ThembaCare before becoming the first child to be given a home at the Village of Hope

Every Nation London has since taken on The Village of Hope as its major outreach project to the developing world. Besides giving money, the church has also sent people to help.

Diane, who has served as a connect group leader at Every Nation, plans to join Thembalitsha by the end of 2009.

She traces back her passion for working with poor children to her own childhood in Durban on the east coast of South Africa.

“Close family friends of ours moved to a mission station in middle of remote Zululand. The father was a doctor and he ran a rural clinic there.

“We went to stay with them one holiday and I can remember standing in the middle of the station and thinking, ‘This is what I want to do one day. I want to make a difference like this.’”

Diane’s six years as a member of Every Nation church has helped to prepare her for her daunting next step, she said.

“Solid teaching, close relationships and Bible school have enabled me to draw much closer to God and to develop a deeper understanding of his character, particularly his faithfulness.

“I have grown in faith to prepare me for this stage of my life.”

In June 2009 Diane resigned from her job as a teacher at John Chilton School in Northolt, where she has worked with special needs children aged 11 to 16 for two years.

She will not be paid any salary at the Village of Hope. She is currently raising her own income from donations and people who commit to give a monthly contribution

“It was a very big moment, handing in my resignation letter,” she said.

“I am going from a good salary, a comfortable flat and a secure job into the unknown.

“But I’m quite determined, and I will not be deterred from my passion, especially considering that I’m a woman on my own and it’s a total change of life.”

• To find out more about the project, see Diane’s website.

This, in short, is the story of Mercy Ships – a Christian charity which has been bringing free healthcare to the world’s forgotten poor for more than 30 years.

Miriam in the dispensary aboard the Africa Mercy

For the last year Miriam Reeve, a pharmacist from Every Nation Church London, has been part of the Mercy Ships story.

Miriam, 27, has traded her job as resident pharmacist at Charing Cross hospital in Hammersmith, west London, for a post at the dispensary aboard the Africa Mercy – the world’s largest non-governmental hospital ship.

Docked at the West African port of Cotonou, Benin, for most of 2009, the ship houses six operating theatres and 78 patient beds.

Over the course of the year, about 7,000 people will be operated on the ship to cure conditions such as facial tumours, cleft palates and cataracts that cause blindness.

These conditions often cause the sufferers to be cast out by their community. Yet in many cases the patients can be cured by a simple 30-minute operation.

It is their stories of change that inspired Miriam to join Mercy Ships in September 2008.

“I read about the lives that are impacted by life-changing surgeries and by people loving them and showing them Jesus,” she said.

“It seemed like the perfect blending of using the medical skills and qualifications that God has enabled me to have, and having the opportunity to serve and be His hands and feet to show love to people.”

The Africa Mercy is the world's largest non-governmental hospital ship

Miriam first heard of Mercy Ships more than four years ago, while she was still studying at Welsh School of Pharmacy in Cardiff. However, at the time she was unaware that they needed pharmacists.

The job was there, but I didn’t see it, evidently that was not the right time and I needed to do some growing and changing before I was in the right place to go.”

Every Nation was “vital” to that growth in many ways, Miriam said. “The friends I made, serving on the Hi team [the children’s ministry] and my connect group – all were a huge part of my growth during my years in London.”

She joined the church after coming to the capital to work at Charing Cross Hospital.
“I found friends that I can do life with, who encouraged and challenged me in my faith and continue to do so.

But by 2007 Miriam had come to a crossroads in her job. At the same time, she found at that Mercy Ships did in fact need pharmacists.

“My connect group cheered me on as I asked for direction, applied [to Mercy Ships] and was accepted to serve.”

However, the ship only needed her to start a year later, in September 2008, as the pharmacist post had already been filled until then.

The extra year enabled Miriam to save up all her fees to live aboard the Africa Mercy. (Staff aboard the ship does not get any salary. They have to pay about £360 a month toward their own living costs.)

Thousands queue to be screened for medical care aboard the Africa Mercy

Today Miriam is grateful for her time of preparation.

“In my job I have never felt so stressed and so out of my depth and so desperately needing God every minute of every day.”

Add to that having to live your life out in front of 400 people, most of whom are strangers because of the incredibly high turnover; being far from your family while they go through struggles; and cultural differences, both on ship and off ship.

“I am learning that the way I am used to is not always right!”

But there are also the rewards. On screening day, shortly after the Africa Mercy’s arrival in Cotonou, long queues of patients snaked outside the port. More than 2,500 people received appointments for surgery.

“It was a fantastic opportunity to see and be part of the bigger picture of what we do as an organisation – to see how many people we can help. To really see God move.”

In fact, it has meant so much to Miriam that she has signed up for another year aboard the Africa Mercy.
Only this time she does not have any savings to pay her crew fees – she has to trust God for that.

“Now God is asking me to take the biggest leap of faith I’ve ever taken and trust Him to provide for me financially.”

A STORY FROM THE AFRICA MERCY

Now able to see, Celine’s steps are sure

Four-year-old Celine with her father Honoré

Four-year-old Celine was born with congenital cataracts in both eyes, but she recently had them removed onboard the Mercy Ship in Cotonou. During the first few hours after the bandages were removed, it was obvious that the child was unaccustomed to such intense colour.

Since Celine was a baby, her father Honoré had wanted to get help for her. He could not afford to pay £220 for surgery on her eyes. As a tailor, he had much competition from the many other tailors in Benin.

Because of her cataracts, Celine struggled in school. “When she went to school the first day, during break time, she fell down the steps,” Honoré said. “I felt so sad when I would see her trip and fall. At school, she stayed quietly in a corner because she could not see.”

Later the teacher asked Honoré to take the struggling child out of the school.

“If she can go to school, she can be something,” Honoré said. “But if she couldn’t see, I feared that she would not have a job – or a future. It would be difficult for her to find a husband and to make a life.”

Then Honoré heard that Mercy Ships were coming to Benin and offering free eye operations. He began to regain hope. To make sure he would know where to go, he even rode his bicycle to the port before the ship even arrived.

On the main screening day father and daughter queued along with thousands of patients to see a Mercy Ships doctor.

They got an appointment for surgery, and on a hot March day, Celine boarded the Africa Mercy with the clouded lenses that kept her from seeing the world around her.

Dr. Glenn Strauss removed both cataracts. The next day, after the dressings were removed from Celine’s eyes, Celine stared down at her feet. She examined a toy locomotive given to her by staff, tracing a black line along its side with her finger.

She eyed people suspiciously, but unlike before, with alertness. When she left, she could see the stairs in front of her, and her steps were confident as she walked down the gangway.

Once again, Janelle is laughing at life

As a bright, young freshman, Janelle looked as if she had it all. But eating disorders consumed her – until she moved to London and saw God in the lives of the students around her.

Driving recklessly at the sight of a red traffic light. Watching a box of pills spill into the hollow of a hand. Watching until the box is emptied of its contents. Walking across the buzzing city streets not daring to look left or right.

Suicide – a thought and reality for many young people today. A feeling and thought that Janelle, a young New Yorker, found herself facing.

“I wanted a car to hit me, a bus, anything to end my life. I didn’t want to live. I lost all hope. I was dead.”

As a bright, young freshman, Janelle looked as if she had it all. As a young leader in her home church all eyes were on the popular, pretty high school girl to make it big in her college years.

But instead of dreams of destiny and hope all Janelle saw was black.

“I didn’t know what to study of what career path to take. l felt worthless. I was a failure and my life was going nowhere.”

As Janelle began her sophomore year in Boston, Massachusetts, the world she had once known began to crumble. Finding herself lost with no real direction, Janelle felt herself and God fading from her life.

“On the outside I was a friendly, fun person, but on the inside I was empty, alone and hopeless. No one could tell. I was Janelle and I was fine.”

Confused by this new feeling of emptiness Janelle sought ways to hide herself.

“I became obsessed with food and my weight. I knew exactly how many calories each thing contained. I skipped meals and over-exercised.”

Staring at the scale, Janelle beamed as she watched herself waste away. “By the end of the summer I had lost 30 pounds and I was happy. It felt so good to be thin – thin and beautiful.”

But then depression set in and loneliness became her companion, a loneliness that brought with it feelings of guilt and shame as she was consumed by her new-found love of food.

“I would eat until I felt sick. I would eat a whole bag of pretzels or crisps all at once. I would eat until it hurt. I was uncontrollable.”

This was when Janelle’s battle with anorexia and bulimia began. “I hated my body. I hated my face. My clothes didn’t fit. I was disgusting and I hated myself.”

Depression and despair forced Janelle to move back home for a time where she described her life as a constant battle.

“The battle is on the inside. It’s in your thoughts and mind.”

Nights became filled with tears and nightmares of the future. “My mom would hear me crying because the walls of our house are so thin. She told me later how afraid she was of what I might do to myself. She tells me now in Spanish how she used to listen to me crying – like a little bird, in sobs through the wall.”

And then came the opportunity to move to London as part of a university exchange programme. It was here that Janelle slowly began to find herself as she once again found God.

“I realise now that God never really meant anything to me all those years that I had grown up in the church. He had never really saved me and I never truly grasped the magnitude of Christ’s death and resurrection.

“God was really nothing to me back then. He was just there and I never had a true relationship with him. As a result, it was easy to fall away.”

Meeting new people and friends at Every Nation church, Janelle slowly started her road to recovery.

“I was still confused… I wanted to stop hurting myself but I couldn’t. I was slowly dying on the inside. In fact, I was already dead.”

But a weekend spent away with the student group at Every Nation changed Janelle’s life.

“The thought of God once again crossed my mind. I had seen love that weekend. I had seen students accept me. I had seen kindness towards me and acceptance from strangers and a comfortableness I had never felt before.

“Maybe God was really there. Maybe He was really in their lives. Maybe he was real. Maybe he could help me.”

With fresh hope, courage and determination Janelle once again found herself laughing at life.

“That morning my heart was freed, the chains were broken. God gave me hope. He gave me new life.”

As Janelle heads back to her home town New York, she is taking a little bit of London with her.

“Everyone at Every Nation is like family. I know God sent me here for a reason. I came to London so he could save me. He planned it perfectly and I am so grateful.

“Now it’s time to start a new chapter in my life and I am excited about it. Now I am ready for him to send me out.”

When asked about what next, Janelle smile and shrugs: “About how he changed my life? It’s about the hope that is in Him. About the love that He is. About how he healed me and how he changed my life.

“I want to impact others with my story. I want to share Jesus. He is the only way. He is the only hope of nations. I have a new hope. I see light now. I see a path. I saw darkness before but now I see life.”

The one-bedroom council flat that Habiba shares with her mother and two young children used to be so cramped and dirty that she dreaded going home – until a team of volunteers from Every Nation Church stepped in.

Habiba's mother, Zhahara, sleeps on the sleeper couch in the living room

It took 12 people, £1,000 and three days to transform the flat in a tower block in Fulham Broadway, west London, with a coat of sky blue paint, new kitchen cabinets and furniture from Ikea.

The act of kindness prompted Habiba, who currently survives on benefits, to cook a 10-litre container full of Ethiopian vegetables for the church’s Christmas celebration.

“It was really so dark, so dirty in the corners, everything… It’s so bad, to be honest, I couldn’t even change it.”

Habiba shares her small bedroom with her son Philemon, five, and daughter Feaben, four, while her mother, Zhahara, sleeps on the sleeper couch in the living room.

Born to a Muslim family in Ethiopia, the former immigration translator has had to flee for her life more than once. After the death of her father, the family moved to Somalia – only to lose her brother and their home in the country’s civil war in the late 1980s.

A scar on Habiba’s face bears witness to how she was shot through the cheek during the conflict. At the age of 19, the family sent Habiba to Oxford in Britain for medical treatment.

However, she had to run one more time – this time to escape violence at the hands of the father of her children. “I have really bad time, so I ran away,” Habiba recalls.

The flat in Fulham was to be a temporary refuge until her eldest turned five. But the local council informed her that she would have to wait two more years before she could have a home with a separate bedroom for the children.

A social worker from the council then wrote to the church, asking for help to overhaul the flat. During a Sunday service, the pastor, Wolfi, called on the congregation to do not only a Besom – a practical project to sweep away suffering – but an “extreme Besom”.

Emtia, who runs Besom projects in the church, obtained paint sponsored by a local store, free furniture and the 12 pairs of hands needed. “Emtia she just organised,” Habiba says.

“This is Christianity, what they have to do.”

Standing next to her new white kitchen cabinets, Habiba adds: “I feel home now.”

And the children?

“They love it.”

Three months after he made the British capital his home, the blue eyes below the unruly mop of blond hair shine with an enthusiasm born of a heart made new.

Vasek lived in London for almost three months before he saw the landmarks of the London Eye and Big Ben

“I had all these rules inside of me,” he says of upbringing in a Catholic grammar school. “If you didn’t stick to the rules, you got kicked out.” Being a Christian, he thought for most of his life, was the same – until God showed him otherwise in a dream.

One night at the end of November 2007, Vasek dreamt he was sitting in a dark flat watching television with Simon and Javed – two friends and later mentors he had met at Every Nation London.

In his dream, Vasek dozed off and woke up to find his friends were gone. But he was not alone. Behind him was a gaping abyss, pulling him down. Only one thing kept him from falling in: a hand that held tightly onto his own. “I believe that was Jesus.”

Still dreaming, he fell asleep again, this time to wake up in the company of a priest and his school friends. Vasek asked them if they were real Christians. “Yes, yes,” they replied. “But I knew they weren’t,” he says.

The dream came four weeks after Vasek’s first visit to Every Nation London. His sister, Eli, who had preceded him to Britain, invited him to the church with her on only his second day in the country. “I really enjoyed that.”

The young Czech returned the next few Sundays, but it took the dream to “really push me forward” into a personal relationship with God, he says.

Still shaken from his vision, Vasek rang Eli. His sister prayed, asking God for an answer in scripture as to what the dream meant. When she opened the Bible, it was at Isaiah 48:15. “I, even I, have spoken; Yes, I have called him,” the verse read. “God was calling me, really, really clearly,” Vasek says.

The next Sunday in church he responded. “I received God as my only Lord.”

Simon, who had met Vasek previously, took the younger man under his wing. Together they started working through the Purple Book, a Bible study to build strong Christian foundations. Vasek also joined the part-time Bible School at the church, one night every week.

“When I became a Christian, I had a lot of questions,” Vasek says. “They (Simon and his wife Shirley) answered every question. They helped me to understand what the Bible is about.

“The relationship with Him is not about rules, but like a relationship with a person. It’s not about expectations or something.

“I want to help save other people, because now I know what it means to be saved. I just want to help my friends in the Czech Republic. They all think they are Christians…”

At church, Vasek has joined the Sunday hosting team, serving refreshments after the service and welcoming newcomers not unlike himself with his broad smile. Church, he says, is “the place where I’m always looking to go – it’s my spiritual family. They are the people who bring me to God.”

Despite Vasek’s new-found faith, life in London has not been easy. Home is a house in Leyton – an east London neighbourhood known for its low rent but often run-down properties – shared with eight others.

He juggles two jobs – one delivering junk mail (”very boring”), the other packaging DVDs in a factory. Long work hours have meant that the day of the interview, held in the shadow of Big Ben and the London Eye, was the first time he witnessed the landmarks. “You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” Vasek shrugs.

But God provides, he adds. On one of his junk mail rounds he found a fully-working DVD player to take home. “He’s taking care of me all the time.”

At the factory, Vasek once found himself having to package a giant pile of DVDs in covers featuring black crosses and demonic creatures. Not wanting to serve evil, he prayed: “What can I do?” A moment later the entire pile collapsed by itself. “It was as if God said, ‘I will take care of it’,” Vasek recalls.

Back in the Czech Republic, Vasek was trained to do high-rise building work, using climbing ropes to scale tall structures around which it were too expensive to erect scaffolding. His dream was to become a climbing instructor – but in Britain, the training is prohibitively expensive.

“Now I’m just waiting on Him to give me work,” Vasek says. “I believe I was not created to work in a factory.”