Look Back In Wonder

I'm not big on camels. They worry me, with their sheer size and legendary ability to scalp a man or at least spit at him. Nevertheless, I do admire them - from a distance. You see them often in Burkina, loping alongside the road to Djibo, a turban-swathed rider perched on top. Sometimes you come across them grazing out in the bush, doing their best to demolish prickly trees while pitifully hobbled. Or my personal favourite – pulling cart loads of people through the town, formidable as double-decker buses next to the usual donkey carts. I always give them a wide berth.

I was surprised, then, to find myself not in the least bit intimidated by the lofty giraffes of Niger. These elegant creatures are the last left in the wild in West Africa. Their snake-like necks, sloping backs and legs like sculpted bar stools give the animal an alien-like demeanour, which is enhanced by the pair of funny stumps between its ears. Maybe it's their huge almond eyes and long, feminine lashes (apparently used to protect their eyes from prickles) that make them seem friendly. Anyway – I was very pleased to come within just a few metres of them recently on a trip to Niamey.

I'm glad to be a missionary in Africa. The wild giraffes and camel buses are just part of it. Sometimes I wake up in the night and feel so happy to be alive that I can't get back to sleep. It's that serious. I guess that's how people like me got nicknamed happy-clappy. I don't mean that I go round smiling all the time and think that everything is great. To my shame I do grumble a lot and have moments of self-pity. But when I stop and think about my life with God, I get quite excited.

Mostly it's looking back that makes me reel. I became a Christian nearly six years ago, after I found myself in the most traumatic circumstances of my life. Since then, my life has been divided into two parts – before and after I gave my life to Jesus.

The catalyst for the big change of direction was when my ex-husband announced he was leaving me for someone else. It broke my heart. But that was just the last heavy straw. Before that I had been starting to wonder if there was more to life than met my eyes. By the time I reached 28, I had everything I thought I wanted – a rich husband, along with a house in London, a cottage in the country, a great job and designer shoes. But I had this haunting feeling that something was missing- something I couldn't quite put my finger on. So when I was suddenly and involuntarily faced with a big life change, I decided to make it a good one. I hated being miserable and wanted to find the key to happiness that didn't depend on my circumstances.

Christianity was the option I most wanted to avoid. I thought it was soft, and far too obvious. I'd much rather have found happiness through Buddhism or even better, no religion at all. So I tried to avoid it. But it kept coming up in ways that seemed weirdly supernatural, as if I was being called. If I was going to be genuine in my search, I realized I'd have to grit my teeth and give it a chance, so I went to church. Throughout the despair and pain of divorce, there was nowhere else that I felt as much peace as I did there, even though I didn't know anyone. Most Sundays, I would hide behind a pillar and quietly bawl my eyes out.

I look back and remember the pain. It was awful. But I know it was also one of the best things that ever happened to me, because it propelled me into the arms of the Lord. I gave up caring what people would say and how my credibility in the fashion industry would probably plummet. And it felt good.

It's since then that I've had this irrepressible sense of joy and peace. The two words sound like clichés that are smattered on Christmas cards, I know, and no one but Christians seem to use the word 'joy'. But there's no other word for it – it's deeper and more rooted than happiness. And it doesn't depend on circumstances to exist.

As far as circumstances go though, I know mine are good. I now have a wonderful husband, a home on the edge of the desert with a colourful people group, the privilege of working for the Lord and even the odd giraffe. I believe that God is real and He calls us to know Him, invite Him in and let Him show us life in all its fullness. It's a risk, but it's one I recommend taking.