Welcoming a new season and a lasting legacy

This week was a milestone for our little family. For the first time, Gary and I got to take our children to Keswick Convention – an event that has been part of our lives for almost as long as we’ve lived in Cumbria.

Sarah, Gary, Charlotte and Daniel on the big chair at Keswick Convention

Having been pregnant with Charlotte when I did my 10th year of stewarding at the event in 2019, I had fully expected to attend as a conventioner with my little baby the following year. COVID-19 had other ideas!

So, although Charlotte got to visit the site briefly last year, this year, three years on from my final stint of stewarding, we finally got to take her, and little brother Daniel to their first Morning Bible Reading and their first Evening Celebration yesterday.

And as we enjoyed our first family day out at the convention, something struck me that hadn’t occurred to me before. Something about seasons and about faith.

Anyone who’s been to the convention in the last couple of years will almost certainly have seen the big chair. It was made from wood reclaimed from the pencil factory during its redevelopment. It’s popular both with children who like to climb on it and with anyone who wants the chance to get a photo in which they look like a Borrower. And, being a fan of photos (and, in my childhood, of The Borrowers, as it happens), getting a family photo on the big chair was high on my convention priority list.

It wasn’t until we’d taken some photos and I was flicking through them on my phone that it suddenly struck me, and once it had, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised it before.

I realised that, four years ago, when I’d published my book, For the Love of Lentil, I’d supported the redevelopment of the pencil factory through its early sales. At the 2018 convention, I stood on the stage in the previous main tent at Skiddaw Street to share our story and the fact that I would donate a portion of the cost of every book sold during that year’s Convention to the Derwent Project. At that point, the project was in the early stages of redeveloping the former Derwent pencil factory to create a new, integrated convention site.

After the convention that year I handed over my modest contribution to Keswick Ministries. I remember joking at the time that it might be enough to buy a couple of chairs. On the one hand, it was a drop in the ocean of a £10million project. On the other hand, it was one of many essential drops that would eventually make up the entire ocean. What was more, it was my way of broadening Lentil’s legacy by making sure that he had played a part, however small, in ensuring the continuation of Keswick Convention for future generations of children. This included our own, as we had every faith that God would grant us at least one child to bring to birth and raise.

Yesterday, as I looked at my children on the giant chair at the convention site I realised that two things had come to fruition, almost in tandem.

Sarah, Daniel and Charlotte try the big chair for size

Firstly, that part of Lentil’s legacy – his metaphorical chairs – had come to fruition with the first full-scale convention being held on the new site. There’s still a way to go before the whole redevelopment is complete but the building is looking great and, more importantly, being used for the teaching of God’s Word to God’s people.

At the same time, our journey towards parenthood – the journey we were so painfully in the middle of back in 2018 – had reached its destination. We are parents to two amazing children for whom we thank God every day, and who we long to see grow up to know and love Him.

In 2018 I stood in the Keswick Convention stage not knowing how long our journey would be or quite what route it would take.

In 2019 I stood in the main tent with a yellow hi-vis over a seven-month baby bump, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the baby we hoped God planned to bring to birth.

Fast forward to 2022 and I sat on the big chair, in the main tent and in the crèche blessed with two babies to love, nurture and care for.

My season of stewarding at convention has reached its end. Now I am in a season of stewardship over two tiny lives and their accompanying expansive minds. I pray continually that I will steward them well, lead them well, teach them well, so that they will come to know Jesus as their personal saviour. And I pray that Keswick Convention – and through it their big brother’s legacy – will continue to play a part in that as they grow and learn.

In the Bible, Ecclesiastes chapter 3, verse 1 tells us that: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” We had a season of mourning the loss of Lentil and one of mourning the subsequent loss of Pip. At this time we have a season of dancing in celebration of the gifts of their siblings, Charlotte and Daniel, and the opportunity to introduce them to the great event that is Keswick Convention.

There’s still a way to go before the pencil factory redevelopment reaches completion, with £1.1million still to raise, and it seems only fitting to allow Lentil’s legacy the opportunity to help some more. So, if anyone would like a copy of For the Love of Lentil with all proceeds going to the Derwent Project, please send me a message via my Facebook page. The books are £6 each (the same as they were during the 2018 convention) and, once postage and PayPal fees are taken care of, we’ll donate the rest to Keswick Ministries. Who knows, we might even raise enough for a third chair.

Sarah Moore is the author of For the Love of Lentil, A journey of longing, loss and abundant grace, which tells the story of her experience of pregnancy and miscarriage. Copies of the book are available here.