Earth is crammed with heaven

I’ve just popped out for a bit. It is Bank Holiday after all. As I walked down to the entry point I spotted a woman.  About my age. Dressed the same as me. But it was the woolly hat and gloves that gave her away. I know one when I see one. I can recognise a kindred spirit at fifty paces. We smiled and chatted, and then moved on. I love being part of this group of people. All over the country, all over the world. A group that has that look about them. Something behind their eyes. A knowing. A strength.  A wildness. I see it in Christians sometimes too. Not as often as I’d like. They will know you by your love John 13:35 paraphrased. I hope you’ve had time to do something for you today. Lots of love xx

I saw a goat in a tree today. Not a real one. Well it was a real tree, but not a real goat. That wouldn't have been appropriate in a coffee shop. I'd been for a swim in the river, and was having a coffee and something to eat with my swimming buddies.  And there it was. In the corner of the courtyard. A misshapen tree. (Is that how you spell it?) And as we were pondering why it was that shape, and observing the strength of the branches, I spotted the goat, and pointed it out on request. I'll be honest, only one of my companions could see it. Either that, or she knows me well enough to play along? The other one, who had only met me once before, was just looking at me a bit oddly... So my thoughts today are that we see what we want to see.  We hear what we are listening for.  We speak what we have learned. The challenge I'm setting myself today is to fix my thoughts. Not on all that is wrong with the world. Not on Boris. (Don't get me started...) Not on the things I...

Well that's more like it. Finally something to celebrate. I'm not sure I could have dealt with another debacle. The A-level results have been re-graded, so the affected one in Testosterone Towers is happy. His down-grade, thank you nasty algorithm, hadn't affected his university place, but it's important to have credit where credit is due. And today I've only heard happy reports where teachers grades have been awarded. It makes sense to me that, circumstances being what they are, the one who knows students best, gets to assess their capabilities, and award their final grade. It works for me. Speaking of which, thank you from the bottom of my heart, to all the teachers/teaching staff who have worked tirelessly through lockdown. You have helped our young people in ways you may never be aware of. I see the hours you have worked while being slated by the press. You are incredible. Thank you. And to all of us today, take a moment to appreciate again all we have experienc...

I cried behind my mask today. Not metaphorically, but literally. These were no silent tears, they were loud-ish. Loud enough to bring the lady who’d been, shall we say, unhelpful, a few minutes before, into the room I was waiting for my blood to be taken. She pretended she needed to look at something, but she didn’t. She needed to look at me. And she never said a word. Not one. And the nurse who took my blood didn’t say anything either. Except to ask me to hold my arm out, which I did. She then asked if she could explain something to me. I said no, please just take my blood. I know it’s not your fault. An observer might think they were cold. Callous even. But they did their job. They did a blood test I’d been trying to get done for over a week. They followed procedure. And what I needed in that moment wasn’t someone to pat me on the shoulder, no there, there, there. Not even a hug. I needed to cry. Ugly cry if necessary. Because tears are healing. It’s important sometimes to let our pr...

 They're a bit fidgety I thought as I glanced at the screen. I was playing a piece of music to help us focus, and pray, during our Zoom worship. Then I noticed the little red microphone that was crossed out on my screen too. It would seem that in muting everyone to help us focus, I'd also muted myself. Instead of  being lost in wonder, love and praise, today's worshippers were faced with a picture of Alvin Slaughter. Rather than praying, "Holy Spirit, rain down" along with us, (we could still hear it), they were trying to get my attention while I had my eyes closed. I turned the mute button off, just in case, and a look of relief crossed their faces. I then carried on praying, and it wasn't until much later, I realised one of them had sent me a text saying, "No sound, Karen." Bless them, not one of them interrupted the worship to tell me I'd messed up. They're used to it. My Zoom skills are not great, but I'm grateful for their acceptance...

We have a guest writer at Testosterone Towers today. It's someone I've really only got to know over the past four years or so, but I feel as if we should have been friends years ago. Not just because she is something of a kindred spirit, but also because we moved in the same circles, went to similar places in our youth, and have a lot of mutual friends. I met her as a colleague five years ago, now we're friends. Liz Hall is married to Keith and has three grown children. She, like me, dislikes the term 'new normal', and has started a campaign for 'the new possible'. You can read her post here  Are we there yet?  

I've had a quieter day today. August is traditionally a quieter month in our church, so in the interests of self-care, and the hope of surviving whatever Autumn 2020 throws at us we have decided to take things a bit more slowly. I say we, but I really mean me, as Chris has no option but to take things slowly. Post-covid illness/fatigue is alive and well and living in Testosterone Towers. So this morning I was his Uber driver for a while before depositing him in front of the cricket. Then I made some calls. Including one of my favourite new Covid-related tasks, phoning Mavis. We chat for a bit then I ask if she's ready, and off we go, sharing together in worship for a few minutes over the phone. She's visually impaired so the only way I can share the worship sheet with her is reading it to her. I share the thought I've written,  we sing - poorly, but sincerely, and we pray. It takes about 5 or 6 minutes all together. But what wonder-filled minutes they are. And as I offe...

Well, I've been to the river. Sing along if you know it. Another first for me. A solo swim after a busy day. I realised it wasn't perfectly timed as I sat in traffic on the way into Hertford. But I knew it was worth it as I entered the water. Its silkiness smoothed my furrowed brow. Its coolness soothed and restored my soul. The mirror-image of the sky, the trees, the clouds, danced gracefully before my eyes. And I am at peace; if only for a short time. The Lord is my Shepherd... He leads. He guides. He restores. He leads me into pools of water where I can swim, and breathe, and rest. Praying the presence of the shepherd for you tonight. Lots of love xx

I wasn’t sure what to write today. The last few days have been good in lots of ways. I read this. It’s where I’m at. I think it’s ok. “It’s ok to feel sad. It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to have hope and it’s ok to be scared. It’s ok to be quiet. It’s ok to speak up. It’s ok to cry, and it’s ok to laugh. Right now you are the most human you’ve ever been. It’s ok to be you. This is where the healing begins.” (Kaitlyn Bouchillon) Lots of love xx

I prepared some 'Wonder-full Worship' this morning. That's not me showing off, that's the title. It's the worship sheet our church uses every week, while we are unable to meet together. Usually, as I complete one, my mind starts thinking about the possibilities for next week. There's usually something I've seen, or heard, or read that sparks a thought. God is kind to me like that, and my mind works in that way  as I have prepared and led worship for the last 300 years... This morning though? I've got nothing. After a few long minutes sat at the laptop, I gave up and went for a swim. It's been a while since I did the whole 'tethered to the washing line in the paddling pool' thing. I missed being able to stretch properly, and much as I love cold-water swimming, the 19 degree water was a bit of a shock. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't the lake or the sea. But it was a swim. And as my body instinctively did what it does, my mind relaxed, and...

It was my first full day back at work today. We had some time away,  and then family commitments that mean we've had a few days here and there. Unusually though, it felt ok. I'm sure I'm not the only one that doesn't like working again after time off? Yet, today has been a good one. Re-connection has felt important, and sharing peoples lives again has come quite naturally. I wonder if it's because there is no sense of normality at the moment. Every day is different as we watch, wait and wonder... What will be the thing today that will impact our lives? We can't think about the future, much less worry about it, because things are changing all the time. I have a friend who, like me, hates the phrase, 'the new normal'. Its use has been unprecedented... (See what I did there.) She talks instead of 'the new possible'. I like that. Maybe it's one of the reasons why my return to work has been good today? I feel hopeful, content in the moment, confid...

It’s Joel’s birthday today. He’s 23, although how that’s possible when he only finished nursery a few years ago, I’m not quite sure. We’ve spent the day together, mainly eating and drinking, with the odd game of beer-pong thrown in for good measure. A few hours ago we started telling the story. You know the one. What time he was born. How much he weighed.  How long he took to arrive. Then we move on to who was the heaviest. At birth, not now, thankfully. Who took the longest. And so it goes. Every birthday it’s the same. The details. The questions. The story. And isn’t that what connects us? Not just in families, but in all groups of people. Our stories are the things that make us feel something. Something familiar. Something true. Something real. I’ve been thinking a lot recently about restoration. God is in the restoration business. He doesn’t just restore, in the sense of getting things back how they were before. He is the one who re-stories. He takes all that is; all that has b...

It’s been a relaxed kind of day today. The penultimate day of some time we’ve had off. The pool has been empty for the last month, but as I write, it’s been cleaned and is currently filling. It feels a bit September-ish to me. Like the end of something, and the start of something new. I feel like I want to start a new notebook, and write my name on it in my best handwriting, and admire the whiteness of the page, inhale its new-book smell. I’d like to think that today is the start of something new. With that in mind, I’ve decided to blog through the month of August; I think it will help me, if no-one else. So here’s to fresh starts... Hope... Possibilities... His compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Lamentations 3:22-23 Lots of love xx