++Sarah Mullally, the first woman to be Archbishop of Canterbury... should I send her an Offensive (TM) Tee-shirt?  Might it be the case that in 2025 people have moved on from 2009 - I'd like to think so but somehow I doubt it, and she is, after all, on a global stage not the tiny one of the BUS. 

If praying be your thing, then please do - it can be a lonely place being a 'first women to be...' there can be lot of (perhaps self-imposed) pressure not to mess up, not to 'queer the pitch' for those who come after you... there can be cruel words spoken, and blatant 'blanking' that you have to shrug off, at least in public... 

I remain bemused that I am official Baptist history (after all I was a mere 46 years old back then) as well as both amused and slightly miffed at the miss-telling of my story (my surname has been 'corrected' (changed to Gordon)), assumptions have been made about my theology, my ecclesiology, and even why I moved south (you know, that God-person really does call people to move sometimes...).

I rejoice that after all these years, and they are many, the good bits are still better than I ever dare expect (even if the bad bits are so much worse than I ever fear), that the good outweighs the bad, and God still surprises me with wonderful 'hmmm' moments.  

This morning I completed my 250 miles (actually a little over as it was a morning meander to the stationery shop!).

May thanks to everyone who has supported and encouraged me. If you happen to want to donate and haven't yet done so, you can still do so by clicking this link. I've had a lot of fun, and am both fitter and a lot more tired than when I started!  My current intention is continue to walk from the railway station to college in Manchester, and to be more intentional about keeping moving.

As news reports tell us that numbers crossing the English Channel in small boats continue to increase, and sadly with more deaths, the importance of charities willing to speak up and speak out grows stronger.  Praying for a day when no-one feels the need to flee persecution, violence or oppression - and until then doing the small things I can do.  

A fly day out to walk some miles in real life Glasgow - the 05:59 out and getting home just after 21:00... old haunts revisited (and a new bridge walked over) and of course 'my' beloved crane.

A grand day out, complete with macaroni pie for lunch, a lovely walk along the Clyde and a brief catch up with a few folk I haven't seen in a very long time. 500-ish miles by train, and just shy of 9 walked.

Just twelve miles left to walk and three days to walk them - that should be doable!

I have been more than a bit lax in posting updates recently - apologies, life has been pretty full, and getting my average of eight miles a day walked has been a good challenge.

Today I passed the 90% point, having walked 225 of 250 miles (plus a couple more before the end of the day).  It has been a genuine challenge and it has been a lot of fun.  Finally working out a decent length, adequately safe and interesting, route around this small town has been a definite positive, as well as raising (so far) £280 for the charity Refugee Action.

With four days left to complete the challenge, the end is very much in sight.  If only the same could be said for the conflicts and humanitarian disasters that force people to flee their homes risking everything in the hope of better future.

A clerical collar and a smile goes a long way.

6:30 this morning, collared up, I made my way to the railway station to meet the person I was accompanying to an asylum hearing.  The day went as well as such a day could go, with trains that ran on time, compassionate, caring officials, and a branch of Pizza Hut for lunch!  For all that, it was a long day, and tiring even for me, who wasn't being interviewed via a live link, through an interpreter.

So, imagine you are in a country where no English is spoken, and you have to get yourself to a place for which you have an a address and no directions.  You have been told how to collect a train ticket, but not that the most direct route to your final destination means changing trains at a station where you have to pass through two sets of barriers, climb endless stairs and cross a bridge to do so.  Liverpool South Parkway qualifies as one of the least user friendly stations where I've needed to change platforms and providers - where digital tickets work only on one half of the station, and the analogue ones I'd got for the appropriate gates didn't work either!

Never mind, you get to the destination station, and follow the direction your smart phone gives you to a beautiful building with revolving doors.  This can't be right, you think as you take the escalator up to where the receptionist sits - and you are correct, she carefully redirects you to a side entrance in a narrow street where a long queue patiently waits to be admitted to a security search area.  The security people are jovial, decent people checking names on a list with bright yellow highlighter pen, before directing you to airport style security.  Once through this, and having received a cloakroom ticket from any vapes or lighters (to be reclaimed on the way out) you are directed to a flight of stairs, where brightly coloured arrows and large print letters signpost the way to the waiting room.

Entering the waiting room, every eye turns to look at you before returning to the phone or to the letter clutched firmly in one hand.  At the glass screen you are asked for your ID and letter, are allocated to an interview room and sent to sit down until your name is called.

Once you are called, and have again had your ID checked, you are led away by an official (and here they were all pleasant and kindly) to a room where your interview will be held.  You may ask for breaks if your become overwhelmed or distressed, but otherwise you are basically there for a couple of hours to answer questions.

Then you are shown the way out, and left to find your way home.

I learned a lot today...

I had a lovely conversation with a senior official who clearly cares about the people coming for interview, and who wants to do their utmost to make the space not only unthreatening but if possible welcoming, with colourful signs in as many languages as possible.  They spoke about the importance of language used which needs to be respectful, and about the value of a smile.  A reminder that these are real people too, people who don't come to work to make life difficult for those being interviewed, but who do have procedures to follow.

I will remember for a long time how it felt to walk into the waiting room with the person I was supporting, and every hollow, haunted eye turned to see who it was.  The unexpectedness of a fair-skinned woman cleric was almost palpable, especially in a room where almost everyone was male.

I was struck by the courtesy of the officials who called out names, and waited for those called to respond; and by their kindness to those who needed to take a break for a drink, to use the toilet, or to compose themselves.

I was reminded that Liverpool is a confusing city to navigate, especially with a smart phone map which is incapable of telling you that Pizza Hut is on the third floor of a huge building!

Above all, I was reminded that there is so much more good than bad in the world, and that most people, even with tough jobs, are decent, kind and compassionate.  I cannot imagine feeling the need to board a small boat to cross the English Channel/La Manche overnight, but in this broken and disordered world there are people who do, and who will pay huge sums of money to do so. I am glad that the RNLI will bring people safely to shore whoever they are and wherever they are from.  And I am glad that today, in some very small way, I was able to make a difference.