La Grande Challenge

When a British couple decided to move to France and convert a semi-derelict farmhouse into a Christian holiday and retreat centre they knew they were in for a challenge - but they had no idea just how big!

"Well that was easy!" I announced to my family as we sank into our garden chairs, white wine in hand. "So this is where God has called us to."
"It could be worse. It could be much worse," my husband, Graeme, replied.

We sat in silence for a while looking out across the garden to the French countryside beyond. It did seem odd to be here after such a long time of God calling and preparing us. But here we were at the end of moving day enjoying the peace and beauty of our new home.

The day had started on the early morning ferry out of Portsmouth. The crossing was smooth and, as we drove southwards, the grey skies cleared and the sun had come shining through. We collected the keys and headed for our new home. The UK removal company had arrived on time and unpacked with speed and effi ciency. The water was hot in the tank, the electricity was on and the telephone worked. The previous owners had even left pizza, chips and champagne in the fridge freezer. It was undoubtedly the easiest house move we have ever experienced.

The next two days were spent unpacking boxes. Two of our children, Sarah-Jane (22) and Thomas (20) had come for a few weeks to help with the work.

As day four dawned we awoke knowing that today was the day that the hard work was to begin. If we were going to turn this old farmhouse and hayloft into a Christian Holiday and Retreat Centre by Easter we would have to roll up our sleeves and get going.

Our first job was the long wall at the end of the house. It had a serious damp problem and, after seeking professional advice, our suspicions were confi rmed; the plaster needed to come off to let the stone wall beneath 'breathe'.

"A hammer and chisel will get that off without too much of a problem," we were told, and so we set to.

Progress was painfully slow as we chipped minute amounts away. After two days with all four of us taking turns and a tiny amount of stone wall revealed, we sought advice again. This time, when the gentleman came to look, he let out a slow, quiet "Ahhhhhhh" then he said, "That's not plaster, it's cement made using granite sand; it's harder than concrete." Well that explained things.

The next morning we set off to find the local French equivalent of B&Q and the 'great tool purchase' began as we handed over our Euros for a pneumatic chisel. After literally hundreds of man hours we finally cleared the cement off the wall and thankfully it is now drying out beautifully. Sadly however we did reveal the remnants of an ancient stone fireplace that had been brutally removed.

The next task on the list was to remove three false ceilings to reveal the ancient oak beams underneath. Graeme eased away one corner and then with a crowbar he pulled hard. As the first panel came down the room was filled with a brown mist so thick that I could not even see him on the other side of the room. We coughed and spluttered and made for the nearest exit until the dust settled. When it did the sight was not a pretty one. The debris that had come down contained hay, ancient mud render, dead mice and buckets and buckets of mouse droppings! The days that followed were spent in masks and overalls until at last the enormous timbers could once again be seen in all their glory.

One morning, in need of a smaller less daunting task Graeme took himself off into the old stone chicken house, soon to become a small prayer chapel, to see what he could achieve there. From the window I watched him ponder the situation and then slip off into the barn and reappear with the pressure hose in his hand, and then back into the chicken house. Four hours later he stood in front of me covered from head to toe in decades-worth of chicken droppings (rather a lot of droppings in our lives just then, and we hadn't even looked in the goat shed), and dripping wet. However he wore a huge smile on his face. "Come and see what I have just done!" he said. I followed him out to the now cleared and cleaned space and was just amazed at the difference. It was small and yet somehow it felt warm and inviting.

The next day we took a friend in to show him. "I am not a Christian" he said, "but if I needed to pray I could see how this space would inspire me to do so".

I smiled to myself and thanked God for His affirmation.

After four weeks Thomas and Sarah-Jane had to return to the UK, and so Graeme and I had to settle into just being two. Well okay three. We knew then as we do now, that God was there with us.

There were times however, particularly in the silent jet-black night, that I wondered at our madness. Would we run out of time? Would we run out of money? Was there any chance of that planning permission coming through on time? Would anyone want to come here? Would we be bankrupt by the end of next year?

Then I remembered that comforting Bible passage from Jeremiah 29:11, "I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Graeme and Evelyn's Holiday and Retreat Centre is now open - to book or for more details visit www.christianbreaks.com or email graeme.stewart@club-internet.fr