zz ** RECENT DRAFT ** About Frank

I trusted in Christ in October 1939 at the age of sixteen. One of the first obvious changes in my life was a new desire to spend my life in proclaiming the gospel. Three years earlier, on the persistent advice of my art teacher, I took an art scholarship and spent three years at the Manchester School of Art. After this, since my dad took the view that my general education was being neglected, I did a six-month crash course at a private business college.  It was during this time that God did something for me that I could never do for myself - he changed my life completely.

I joined a retail organisation for a short period before being called up for war service in January 1942 and spent most of the next five years in  France, Germany and the Middle East. To say that this was a learning curve would be putting in mildly. I discovered what men can be really like when free of social restraint. I also had the privilege of  meeting true believers of different nationalities.

When I was eventually demobbed I returned to the church where I was brought up but to my surprise I found no fellowship with like-minded people. Nor was I warmly welcomed. Fifteen years elapsed, during which time I found myself in a kind of spiritual wilderness. None of the churches in the town showed any signs of spiritual life and it was not until I married Sheila that we were able to settle down in an evangelical Anglican church where I became a reader.

All these years the desire to enter the ministry of the church had been at the back of my mind. Now it became much stronger. But my domestic circumstances make the move difficult. I had the daunting prospect of two years in theological college with no assurance of any income. How would I pay the fees, the mortgage, and feed the children? Had my wife been suffering the same lack of confidence I would probably not have moved even then.

To cut a long story short  When I was ordained, the mortgage was paid, the children were in excellent health and, believe it or not, I was free of debt. I never cease to thank God for his gracious provision.

After my curacy in Bolton, Lancashire, I served for seven years in an industrial parish and for a further seven in a working class parish in the South-East of England. Five years in, I suffered a heart attack. I recovered sufficiently to serve another four years in the city of York, but the heart trouble caught up with me and I was forced to retire a year early.

To fritter my time away in retirement was certainly not an option, so I began to write. Now, twenty-three years and several books later, I am still writing.