Life Lessons: From a one-bedroom flat in Hampstead to 40 years of marriage and ministry

I was born in London, England, in 1958, and brought up in Hampstead. I spent my early childhood there, and then my teenage years in Hendon. I’m part of the Windrush generation. My parents both came to England from St Kitts in their early 20s. They didn’t know each other back home; they met and married here. Like many who came during that time, they faced racism, prejudice and many challenges, and we as children were born into that context.

We started out in a one-bedroom place and eventually moved into a council flat in Hampstead. Later, when I was about twelve, my parents bought their first home in Hendon. That was a significant moment for us as a family. There are four of us siblings, three girls born within 15 months of each other, and then our brother. We were close in age and grew up very much as a unit.

My mother worked for a short time in a factory when she first came to England, and then she stayed at home with us until we were well into primary school. My father worked for what was then North Thames Gas, part of British Gas. When my mother was ready to go out to work once again, she found a job at the Royal Free Hospital as a seamstress. She was an excellent dressmaker, and it was the only job that allowed her to be home for us at the right times. It was there that she met two Christian women who invited her to a Pentecostal church. That invitation changed her life.

The impact of faith

We had been nominal Methodists. My parents sent us to Sunday school, though they themselves rarely attended – apart from special occasions. But when my mother encountered a living faith through that Pentecostal church, something shifted. I was about eleven or twelve at the time. I remember the change very clearly. She became a woman of prayer. Every day after work she would check that everything was in order downstairs, then go up to her room for an hour to pray. We were not to disturb her. It reminds me of Susanna Wesley putting her apron over her head as a signal that she was praying. My mother didn’t use an apron, but the principle was the same. Prayer marked her life from that point on.

Faith became real for me about four years later, when I was 14. I attended church and enjoyed the youth group, but I didn’t believe I needed salvation. I didn’t think I was a sinner; I had never done anything terribly wrong. Then one day I was alone at home, and something frightened me deeply. In that moment I realised how vulnerable I was, how alone I could be when things went wrong. I cried out to God for help. I remember so clearly sensing in my heart the response: “Yes, come through, Jesus.” For the first time I understood that I needed forgiveness; that I couldn’t come to God on my own terms. That evening, alone in my house, I asked Jesus to forgive me and come into my life. That was the moment I became a Christian.

In my mid-teens I met other Christians at school, and together we formed a Christian Union with the help of a Christian teacher. My faith became something lived and shared, not just personal. Looking back, I often describe my life as a series of ‘filling stations’, where God pours in experiences that later become fuel for future ministry.

At 17 I met Les, who would later become my husband. He had just become a Christian and came to my church looking for a friend of his from school – who happened to be a good friend of mine. We became friends first, both loving the Lord, and that friendship deepened over time.

University and married life 

In 1977 I went to university in Coventry, the first of my siblings to do so. It was a new world for me and for my family, though they were very supportive. I studied applied social sciences – sociology, social psychology, environmental studies and race relations. Those subjects became another filling station, as they shaped how I understand culture, relationships and the ‘software’ running quietly in the background of our lives. That understanding later informed my work with couples and the co-writing of a book on celebrating intercultural marriage.

University was also my first real exposure to different expressions of Christianity. I discovered that believers did not all look or worship like those I had grown up with. It stretched me and broadened my understanding of the body of Christ.

Les and I married in 1981, a year after I finished university. He was born in Antigua, so although we shared Caribbean heritage, our upbringings were culturally different. For example, my family life in the UK felt quite nuclear, just parents and siblings, with extended family visiting occasionally. In Les’ experience, both in Antigua and later in the UK, family life was much more fluid and extended, with relatives constantly in and out [of the family home]. Navigating those differences was one of our early lessons in marriage and culture.

We have two children. Our son Jake was born in 1985, and our daughter Lara in 1988. They are now adults with their own children. It is a joy to see who they have become.

Forging careers

Professionally, I began as a careers officer and later moved into training social workers. When I turned 40, I faced a decision: have another baby or change career. I chose to change career and retrained as a primary school teacher; despite always having said I would never teach young children. I taught full-time for twelve years, then part-time for the next eight years. Those years were stretching and refining.

One particularly challenging experience involved a pupil I will call Austin. In my second year of teaching, he began as a delightful child, then suddenly became deeply disruptive and unsettling to me – emotionally, spiritually and professionally. I remember going away one weekend just to clear my head. I picked up a magazine article that, in essence, said sometimes God brings challenging people into our lives to refine us. I came home praying, “Lord, if Austin is here to refine me, then refine me.” That season exposed things in my heart and drove me closer to God. Many years later, those experiences formed part of my devotional book for teachers, Exhale, which grew out of retreats I began running for struggling Christian teachers. The retreats were called ‘Breathe’ and were designed to refresh and strengthen teachers halfway through the school year.

Navigating life together

Les became a pastor about five years into our marriage, and together we gradually found ourselves supporting other couples. Younger couples often had nowhere safe to talk about their struggles. There can be a culture of silence in church life, everyone smiling on Sunday after having argued at home. We chose to be honest about our own challenges and to make our home a safe place for conversation. Over time this developed into marriage preparation and enrichment courses, as well as ongoing support for couples over the past 30 years.

In our own marriage, I would say humility and forgiveness have been foundational. If you cannot forgive, it is very difficult to sustain a marriage. There have been disagreements and difficult seasons, but, at the core, we have maintained our friendship and the settled knowledge that we love one another and are both flawed and human. Forgiving and choosing humility have allowed our marriage not just to survive but to grow.

We moved to south London when Les took up a pastorate, and we have now lived here for over 40 years, currently near Crystal Palace.

Keeping focused on God’s leading

There have been seasons of significant ill-health for my husband and I, at different times. For myself, there was a long period of uncertainty followed by surgery and rehabilitation. It wasn’t a dramatic miraculous healing, but it was a deeply focusing time. It reminded me that life will go on without me. The question I began to ask was: While I am here, what does God want me to do? Since then, especially over the past twelve to 15 years, I have been less interested in being busy and more committed to doing the specific projects I sense God has given me, whether writing, retreats or walking alongside individuals for a season.

One of the key life lessons for me has been resisting being pigeonholed. People are quick to assign titles – pastor, minister, leader – but I believe my primary calling is to be an encourager. In Romans 12 it says that we have different gifts, and if it is encouraging, then give encouragement (v8). That has resonated deeply with me. Encouragement can take many forms: supporting a couple, mentoring an individual, writing a book, leading a retreat. It is not fixed to one title or structure. Sometimes I walk with someone only for a season, giving what God has entrusted to me for that time, and then I move on.

A verse that has stayed with me over the years is God’s charge to Joshua: “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9). The reminder that “you have not passed this way before” (Joshua 3:4) speaks to me often. There are many unknowns ahead. Outwardly I may appear confident, but inwardly I can feel like the swan – calm above the surface, paddling furiously underneath. It is the assurance of God’s presence that steadies me. He is with me, and He will give me the courage and strength needed for whatever He asks me to do.

Celebrating Your Intercultural Marriage: Loving your differences and growing together by Louise and Les Isaac (IVP) is available now.