An ex-commando, creativity and the Cross of St Piran
What does a Cross of St Piran Award mean to a man who already has a tidy stash of medals and honours following his time in the elite 4 5 Commando Unit? More than he can say. “I was always embarrassed when I was given an award, I would have much rather they’d popped it in the post. But this award isn’t about what I’ve done, it’s about what God is doing through creativity. And if this award helps to shine a light on that, then I’m happy.”
Meeting Patrick, you probably wouldn’t know he used to be a commando specialising in mountain arctic warfare. He doesn’t talk too much about his military career because what he really wants to talk about is how good God is and how deeply embedded He is in Patrick’s work with ex-servicemen and women suffering with PTSD, and others who have lost confidence in life. Today, Patrick is a sculptor and psychotherapist with an extraordinary ability to encourage, nurture and create circumstances where people can connect with each other through creativity and find ways to move on with their lives.
How being a commando resonates with Patrick’s life today
Patrick’s career as a commando laid the foundations for what he does now. He’s travelled the same path as many of the veterans he now works with. He knows what it is to have ‘bad head furniture’, to be tormented by experiences and the sort of images most of us only see in movies. But he also knows the power of transformation. A fellow commando led Patrick to faith, “He was different, he pursued different things and was far happier. It made me question what inspired and motivated him to do the things he was doing, and not the things I was doing, and be happy.”
Patrick has faced many battles in his life, and not just the metaphorical ones. “God made me. He knows what I can do better than I can. Many times in my service days, I was scared and really up against it. Deployed to the Gulf, we were training in Saudi Arabia to go into Iraq as part of the liberation of Kuwait. We knew he (Saddam Hussein) had chemical and biological capability that he was prepared to use, and we were anxious. But God kept putting Psalm 46 kept into my head, ‘Be still and know that I am God.’ The night before we went in, one of the boys said, ‘Can we have a prayer boss’ and I had such a sense of God’s love for those guys and that He was saying, “I’ve got this.”
I had such a sense of God’s love for those guys and that He was saying, “I’ve got this.”
“I don’t have a clue – but God does!”
That ability to lead hasn’t left Patrick. He seems like a quiet, gentle man but he has a fierce love for God and the people He brings together. “Most of the time I haven’t got a clue what’s going to happen next, or what’s down the road, but God does. He sees the whole picture when we only see a part of it.” When Patrick worked on the beautiful remembrance memorial at St Paul’s church, he didn’t know who would respond to his call, what they would come up with, what the design would be or whether any of the finally assembled crew would be able to complete it. The results were stunning. The group discovered skills in themselves they had no idea they had and created, out of stone, a tender memorial that spoke of love, peace and reconciliation.
“You can’t learn things by reading them in a book, you have to walk the path and get a stone in your sandal, and just say, no, we’ll crack on here.
The project, like so much of the work Patrick undertakes, was about more than revealing previously undiscovered gifts and talents. It was about facing and over-coming hurdles, engaging in something creative that is so diverting it takes you away from whatever it is that’s pulling you down and letting you experience what it’s like to be free of such thoughts. What most of what these men and women go through is so far removed from our own experiences. “You can’t learn things by reading them in a book, you have to walk the path and get a stone in your sandal, and just say, no, we’ll crack on here. The Paul project was about focussing on what needed to be done, gathering people and saying, we can do this. There were times in that journey when the team felt they couldn’t do it, but I knew they could. I’d say, just look at what you’ve done and how far you have come. The final piece was stunning. On that sunny morning when it was unveiled, their faces said everything.”
Like Peter trying to walk on water, it’s all about keeping your eyes on Jesus
Patrick likens his faith to Peter’s in the boat when Jesus asked him to walk towards Him on the water. When he kept his eyes on Jesus, he could do it. When he lost focus, he started to sink. “I’m now running a business, I’m not a businessman. A lot of the time it’s terrifying. I don’t know if there will be enough income from one month to the next to keep all the wheels turning as a lot of what I do voluntarily is supported through Wild Art, working with Who Dares Wins and Help for Heroes. But if I keep my eyes on what God wants and listen carefully, He always delivers.”
Patrick says he’s glad sometimes that he can’t see what’s ahead. “I think God only reveals a certain amount to us because He wants us to reliant on Him. Not in a controlling way, but in the same way a loving parent wants only the very best for their child by nudging them along. If God revealed the whole shooting match to me, I might be tempted to skip out the dodgy bits! Those are usually the hard bits, but those are the bits we learn from, that help us all to grow.”
If God revealed the whole shooting match to me, I might be tempted to skip out the dodgy bits! Those are usually the hard bits, but those are the bits we learn from, that help us all to grow.”
Some of the voluntary work Patrick has taken on includes working with survivors from the Grenfell Tower when they came to Cornwall with Cornwall Hugs Grenfell. He ran sculpting workshops, helping families to engage together in something they’d never tried before. It’s fun, but therapeutic and diverting, replacing pain, if only for that short time, with creativity. “It’s like dominoes. Once you help people to start the process of being released from pain, tap that first domino, there’s a good chance the rest will begin to fall, and the healing can begin.”
“It’s like dominoes. Once you help people to start the process of being released from pain, tap that first domino, there’s a good chance the rest will begin to fall, and the healing can begin.”
Listening to God and trusting He’s got it covered
Patrick is also working with Man Down, a relatively new charity doing really important work with men. With suicide the biggest killer of men under 50, and Cornwall having the second highest suicide rate in the UK, Man Down exists to encourage men that it’s OK to talk. To admit that life isn’t always easy so they can understand they are not alone in their struggles. “It was another God thing. When they launched in Penzance, I didn’t know anything about it but felt God telling me to go along. I got talking with the founders who said they were doing a sponsored swim. I like swimming too so ended up joining them. Our friendship grew and now guys from the groups come along to The Shed.” The Shed is where all the magic happens.
Patrick’s current pet project involves designing and building a paramotor adapted to carry another ex-commando, paralysed in action, and flying across Africa, from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean. “Servicemen and women are usually adrenalin junkies – becoming paralysed doesn’t take that away. This project is a great way of recreating the joy of flying. He will be in control, at the front, experiencing the full thrill of flying while I’m at the back, taking pics of the giraffes!” It’s a two-year endeavour, the prototype is built but there are many logistical hurdles ahead. “But if it’s of God, He’ll make it fly!”
What Jesus did was life-changing
So what is it that fills this ex-commando with so much enthusiasm and tender care for the people that keep on coming into his life? “Jesus. What He did. So many times He could have said, ‘D’you know what? I’m checking out of here – no one likes me, they all think I’m mad and there’s a really miserable death planned for me. I’m going back to my Father.’ But He didn’t. He saw it through and kept on loving and forgiving us, even during the darkest moment. What He did for me has been life-changing. If I can show even a little bit of that love to others, even when I don’t always feel like it, then I guess I’m where He wants me to be.”
“If I can show even a little bit of Jesus’ love to others, even when I don’t always feel like it, then I guess I’m where He wants me to be.”
Patrick Mcwilliam will be awarded the Cross of St Piran on March 8th at St Piran’s church, Perranzabuloe.