A heart as big as himself . . .

The title says it all really, when you consider to whom I am referring. My pal, he could have been your pal, everybody's pal. George Chambers, miner, delivery driver, salesman, insurance collector, husband, father, friend and not least Pastor.

Many a story could be written about his exploits, from his conversion to Christianity as a young man, sharing his faith in the coal mines of the Lothian coal field, to his bravado as a delivery driver for Campbell Brothers, the butchers - on one occasion driving so erratically that he had to jump into the back of the van as it careered down a hill before plunging into a snow covered field, spilling its contents (mainly fresh liver) out, and himself walking away from the wreck bloodied but unbowed. (The company had a safety bonus for all drivers, he never picked up a bonus in the years he worked with them!).

To say he was fearless, would be an understatement, his clear witness of his personal beliefs was such that it did not matter to him how a person positioned themselves in society, if the opportunity arose to witness to his faith he grasped it and pressed forward. At the Lady Victoria coal mine he had been sharing his faith with one of his colleagues and in the dining hall the man decided to pray the 'Sinner's Prayer'! At that moment George and friend knelt beside one another and a prayer of commitment was breathed from the lips of the enquirer. A hush decended over the dining hall packed with up to 1500 men - it had been transferred into a Bethel - a place where man and God met!

I could probably write a book about his escapades, but it is as a pal I write today. George Chambers, husband of Joan, father of Gail and Ruth, father-in-law and grandfather passed away on Saturday 15th January 2011, and I lost probably the best pal I have ever had (apart from my soul-mate my darling wife).

William Shakespeare wrote: Be not afraid of greatness, some are born great, some achieve greatness, some have greatness thrust upon them. This statement from Twelfth Night could have been, in my opinion, quoined to refer to George Chambers he was a big man in stature, but also a man of great faith and vision, in his day he would not see anything stand in his way to thwart what he perceived as the way forward.

In the early 1970s George and Joan gathered together a group of friends, if my memory serves me correctly, a small number famillies, Bill and Sadie Welsh, Anne and Mike Heath, Margaret and I and themselves with a view to planting a church in Livingston, then just a group of housing estates with hardly a shop and very few community facilities. The plans were made in the living room of their house in Pitt Street, Leith the decision was taken to go for it. George and Joan, and the twins, moved to Livingston, Anne and Mike moved as well, Margaret and I were part of the group but had committed ourselves to inner city mission work and were part of the congregation but our involvement did not fully commence until our return from Peterhead in 1984.

George had a vision for a church in Livingston , in the early years meetings were held in houses and homes, then community centres always, wondering if the lease would be renewed, nevertheless, George and Joan encouraged the people to continue to trust God and follow the vision. Like all church families, people came and people passed through, there were the curious, the lonely, the disappointed, and then there were the disciples, the faithful, it did not matter to George whether there were 2 in the meeting or thirty, as a man who had a Pastors heart as long as there were people who needed him he would be there for them. The house at Corston Park became the headquarters of project Livingston, the door was open to all 24/7 you would never be turned away, the kettle was always on the boil, the biscuits and cakes were there and the welcome was always warm. The door never stopped, the phone was always ringing, do you know, that for over twenty five years day and daily I was mentioned in his prayers - that's what he did for his pals - he prayed for them, with them and about them every single day!!!

Not every day was a good day, he had his moments, as I said earlier in this piece he was no respector of persons, great or small they were all the same to him. On one occasion he was in conversation with one of the leading lights in the Livingston Development Corporation, without much ado, the gentleman engaged George in conversation, the gentleman asked if there was anything that was needed by the fellowship to further its aims. George never slow to ask, said yes there is, we need a piece of land to build a church, we have no money but we do have faith. The response was not too encouraging, 'Well we don't have much land available for the type of enterprise that you wish to establish, but I'll see what can be done!' The conversation ended. A few weeks later George received a letter or phone call, telling him of the possibility of a piece of land. With great faith and excitement we went together to the plot of land. We were like Joshua and Caleb of a bygone day, or were we just two pals, enthused by the thought of a place to call home? (I wonder). We strode onto the land at the end of Maple Grove, not believing the size, noted the potential, but most of all we did what George in his own inimitable style wanted to do - we claimed the land for Jesus, praying that the blessing of the Lord would be granted and a work established! The rest they say is History! The LDC told George and the church that they could have the land for a small annual rental and that they would never gain title to the land. That was then - things change although God cannot change!

George Chambers, my pal has gone home to his reward, I can see him just now sitting amongst the saints, singing, praising, and playing his tambourine, or maybe arms folded in front of him as he worships the true and living one! Someone reading this blog may say what a load of fanciful nonsense, well you are welcome to your opinion, but I know what my pal would want me to think - fanciful or not!

I will miss him greatly! His vision for a thousand souls, in my opinion has been more than matched, I would like to think that when he arrived at the gates of glory, he would be greeted with the following words: 'Come in George - my Pal!'

Leaving footprints in the sand!

A couple of weeks ago there was an announcement in the B/D/M column of 'The Scotsman'. It simply stated that Grace Doull had died peacefully in an Edinburgh Nursing Home. Subsequent to that notice an acknowledgement was posted in the same newspaper, thanking various people for their kindness towards Grace during her final years. Both the announcement and the acknowledgement simply stated the obvious or did it?

To many people, when they read such material will just see what it says no more no less, to the Campbell family formerly of the Canongate, Edinburgh, the notice evokes memories which go back at least three generations. Grace Doull had an influence on my parents, she was a Girl Guide officer who took an interest in my Mother in the 1930's, as a nursery school teacher, she cared for my brothers, Billy, James during the early 1940's and after the war my sister Helen and myself up until the early 1950's. In the 1960's and 1970s the next generation of Campbell's were cared for by 'Miss Doull'.

I cannot speak for my brother or sister but I am sure they would agree with me that Grace Doull left the gentle touch of her way of life with us.

Over the years I was able to meet her, and regardless of where it was, she always remembered my name, and asked after my mother, brother and sister without hesitation. I worked for many years as a taxi driver and picked her up on occasion from the Cameron Toll Shopping centre. We chatted about the days I spent at the Cowgate Nursery School, the conversations were never long - however, they were always memorable and it was my privilege to take care of her.

Grace Doull left an indelible imprint on my life and probably my story could be rehearsed by thousands of others who have come under her influence. A simple announcement it may have been but her life means far more than can be recounted in any obituary.

The phrase . . . 'They broke the mould, when . . .!' could have been quoted just for her. She is one of a kind. A Southside Lady who will not be forgotten by at least one Southside Laddie.