Melody Jacob

Okay, where do I even begin? When we set out on our planned road trip to Elgin sometime in September, I thought it was just going to be a simple mission—Sam's dealings, followed by my solo exploration. But God said, "I have a different assignment for you, my child."

Let me take you on a journey that left a mark on my soul.

Part I: Accommodation, The Bus, and the Best McDonald’s in the UK

We found the accommodation easily, which was such a blessing. The city of Elgin itself felt calm—a quiet peace settled over it. The accommodation we stayed at was very tidy, but as you know, I always travel with my own sanitizer and disinfectant spray. I disinfected the room, and I laid down my bedsheet and covered the pillows. In my head, that was the only way I could truly settle in.

Now, for a quick detour: If you know me, you know I stopped eating McDonald's ever since I got to the UK. But we had a kind of early start, and desperate times call for golden arches. I had the McDonald's breakfast in Elgin, and let me tell you, it was the best I have ever had in the whole of the UK—and I've had it in Glasgow! But, but... the best McDonald's I've ever had in Europe, full stop? That was in Ukraine. The taste, the service, the environment's neatness—it was different. (But that's a story for another day.)

The next morning, my partner was off to his assignment, and I was ready to explore. I had my list of places to visit, but suddenly, I decided to ditch the taxi plan. I was going to touch the soil of Elgin, so I decided on the bus to the city center.

Oh, the chaos! The live map kept telling me to keep going past what looked like a perfect bus stop. Eventually, I found the real stop—just a small sign, no name, nothing definitive. I had to ask a girl on the street for confirmation. The bus arrived late, and I was almost ready to give up. WhWhen it finally came, paying for such a short trip felt like an arm and a leg; however, as a tourist, I paid the fare and hoped for the best.

I had no idea where I was going. There were no marked stops, no Saint Mary's bus stop, and no Queen's Gate bus stop. I was glued to my map, hoping I hadn't missed my stop. Then, suddenly, the bus came to a final stop, everyone got off, and I checked the map again. City Center? Five minutes away. God is good.

Part II: The Moment I Almost Threw Up in Costa

I reached the city center feeling threatened by rain and decided to duck into Costa to map out my movements. I was not feeling hungry, and I refrain from drinking coffee because it causes my body to tremble; however, I needed to sit down. I ordered the smallest and cheapest item on the menu, which was an espresso or something similar, and then stood in line.

The atmosphere was quiet, filled with elderly patrons having their morning coffee and chats. I was waiting for my turn, standing right next to the counter, and that's when it happened.

A lady was sitting close to the counter with a massive dog. And I mean a big dog. Now, I saw the dog, and I was already tense. Then, she bent down, and the dog started licking her face. Licking her mouth. 

I almost threw up right there at the counter. No jokes, I nearly lost it.

I've seen things, but the extreme intimacy of it, followed by what happened next, threw me over the edge: she pulled out a piece of raw beef and fed it to the dog, which then went right back to licking her face. I was shaking. I grabbed my untouched shot of coffee, retreated to a table, and called a friend to try and calm myself down. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. She left after getting her order. 

As someone from the medical line, I know the implications of that kind of contact—it’s just wrong. I sat there for almost 50 minutes, the coffee untouched, before deciding I needed to move before I choked on the sheer visual shock of it all.

Part III: The Divine Detour & The Lantern of the North

I finally planned my tour and started walking towards the first place on my list: Elgin Cathedral. I was still on the phone with my friend, excited to just walk and be present in the city, when a man suddenly stopped me.

He looked at me, smiled, and asked, "Are you a Christian? You look like one." My heart soared! "I'm not just a Christian," I replied, "I am a believer of Christ." He introduced himself as an evangelist and said that he could tell I was a Christian. Praise God! That was the best compliment I could have received.

He said he was on his way to meet a lady and needed an accompanying person. He asked if I could accompany him briefly for accountability's sake since he is a minister, it was a Monday, and the lady had called him to meet at a restaurant.

I told him I was on my way to the Cathedral. "The cathedral is right down there," he said. "Go, take your pictures. I am meeting the lady around 11:30. Once you finish, stroll back along this road, and we will proceed to meet her together.

Just like that, I found myself with a spiritual assignment woven into my tourist schedule.

I walked to the Cathedral, known as the "Lantern of the North." The ruins were stunning—I could see everything clearly from the fence, so I didn't pay the entry fee. The vast, ruined walls, the history—I was soaking it all in. Afterwards, I visited the quiet, beautiful little garden just moments away—the Biblical Garden. It was a lovely, serene interlude.

Part IV: The Holy Spirit Said: ‘This is the Assignment.’

I walked back, half-convinced the pastor would have left. But as I turned the corner, he appeared! "She’s there already. Let’s go," he said.

I followed him to the appointed spot. We approached the lady, and I almost collapsed for the second time that day. It was the same lady from Costa, the one with the raw-beef-eating, mouth-licking dog.

Holy Spirit, don't do this to me!

The dog was there, running around. I tried to stay focused, my inner thoughts screaming, "You and this dog!" The Holy Spirit, however, was already speaking to me: "This is the time for you to preach to this girl."

The pastor explained her story: she is from Scotland, had fled an abusive relationship in London, and was now homeless, as the housing association couldn't help. The pastor met her on the street and provided her with a temporary place to stay in a property that he manages.

He sat back and said, "You minister to her."

I stood up and poured out the Word of God. I preached to her about putting her trust wholly in Christ, rather than in man or any relationship that has failed her. I preached that God will never fail her and that she needed to believe in herself and in Him. We prayed, and I know that God spoke to her through me that day.

Afterwards, as we walked, the pastor gave me a tour of Elgin’s churches. He explained that there are two types: the Church of Scotland, which is run by the government and where pastors are told what to preach, and the Free Church, which is independent and free to preach the sound doctrine of God’s Word and does not receive government funding.

He showed me one church that had been sold and converted into a business center and another that had become a mosque. Then he guided me to RCCG Jesus House Elgin, a Free Church that had recently bought it from the government. He brought me inside and introduced me to the pastor, who was in his office. The pastor asked, “Would you like a tour of the church? I can show you around.”

I was thrilled by the offer and i said yes. He then took me around. It is a beautiful, stunning old church building, well maintained. The pastor mentioned that the elderly Scottish gentleman who has long cared for the property while working with the government would continue in that role. In his words, “He’s an old man, and I think he does this to keep active. We’ll continue working with him—he does a good job and understands the building well.”

The last church he took me to was the Elgin Free Church, which is led by Minister Peter Turnbull; it was locked, so we could not go inside, but he provided a brief history of the church before we started walking towards Lady Hill. 

Elgin Free Church by Minister Peter Turnbull

While walking towards Lady Hill, the final and greatest revelation was revealed to me. The Holy Spirit brought back to my mind an encounter I’d had months earlier in Glasgow—a small criticism I received from a fellow church member during Church evangelism.

We were all sharing our evangelism experiences, and I shared mine. This happened when I was on evangelism, preaching God’s Word alongside another Scottish pastor I had met in the city center, not with my church. I had a lady walk up to  me and ask, “I am gay; does God hate me?” I answered, “No, God loves everyone. This is the time of grace, and if we repent of our sins, God is happy to accept us. We have free Bibles—you can take one and read it to know God for yourself. He will minister to you.”

Afterward, a woman from the church said to me, “We don’t answer such questions in that manner.” I asked her, “Then how do you answer such questions?” She replied, “The Holy Spirit will guide you.” I thought to myself, I answered according to Scripture, and I believe I answered correctly. But perhaps she was influenced by modern woke thinking and felt I should have stayed silent—which I believe is wrong. I often join different evangelical groups to connect with more believers in the body of Christ.

The way she spoke to me that day made me withdraw from evangelism for a few weeks. The unplanned tour was about the gospel's state, not just the church or its buildings.