Apart from posting twaddle on their blogs of course.

An interesting conversation with one of the toddler mums this morning, who asked me this question but didn't give me the opportunity to answer!

I did wonder if she twigged that the conversation we were having just might be part of the answer.

The conversation made me think - another part of what ministers do all day - about how the church, and even Christianity, relates to her and others like her.  This was a very intelligent young woman, her father a theology lecturer, her grandfather and great-grandfather clergymen, and she had been brought up in the church.  She spoke of recognising a void in her life, of her innate spiritual yearning, of her guilt at having left the church, of her struggle with committing to any particular faith, of her anxiety that her child was missing out, of her fear of what church might be like (physically cold, old people, condemnatory attitudes) and a longing to be part of a worshiping community.  All this in five minutes - no wonder I didn't get a word in!

What do ministers do?  Listen to people like this young woman, come alongside them and give them space to ask the questions, avoid the temptation to offer trivial responses, go away and think and pray about just how the church might respond creatively, authentically, open-handedly.

There are no quick answers.  Building relationships takes time (and every week I have to explain to someone that no, I'm not one of the mums!) and risks rejection or misunderstanding.  If I can help these parents (we do have one dad) to feel that this is an OK place to be, that actually we do care about them and are interested in them, then maybe more good conversations will follow and one day I will be able to offer useful answers to 'what do you do all day?'!

A busy few weeks coming up one way an another...

On Monday I begin a module on mentoring with Scottish Baptist College.  This is a pilot of a new undergraduate course and I am interested to see how it works.  A great opportunity to meet people and build a few relationships.  And by the end of the course presumably I will be qualified as a mentor for the third time in my life.  I'm looking forward to it (even if it does mean yet another round of compulsory journal writing).

At the end of this month, last minute hold ups notwithstanding, I will move to my lovely new manse, joining the ranks of city ministers who live in flats rather than houses, having no massive lawn to mow (bliss!) and the pleasure of being above the street lights so I can see the stars.

I am also about to switch my 'day off' from Monday to Friday for the duration of Lent.  This is partly because the college course is on Mondays and partly because the least-bad day for the Lent group I'm running was Monday.  I have found it disorientating taking Mondays off after eight years of Fridays, so it will be interesting to see how the old pattern feels now.

I am looking forward to beginning my 'stewardship' series on Sunday, complete with some multi-media stuff, and even to my first church meeting since moving north.

Otherwise things poddle along as usual and I will continue to post my ramblings, reflections and rubbish for your delectation and delight.

Tomorrow at the bottom of England are two special services at the centre of which are women of God whose paths have crossed mine to various extents.  In Kent a good friend of mine, Julie, who blogs here, is to be inducted to her new pastorate and in Hampshire the thanksgiving service will be held for the life of the young BMS worker Fay Martin who died in Afghanistan.  As it happens, both women were pictured in last week's Baptist Times, and both were met during my time in Leicestershire.

These two women are (were) very different in their experience and expectations of Christian discipleship and service, yet each had heard and responded to God's call on her life.  Fay's path crossed mine only for a week, whilst Julie has become a firm friend with whom many coffees and sandwiches were shared in "Mrs B's" cafe where we put the church to rights, if only fleetingly.

This Saturday I will pause for a moment to think of the two gatherings, one full of joy, one a place of bittersweet remembering, and I will give thanks to God for the blessings these two have brought to God's world.

In these moments of pause, when joy and sorrow are juxtaposed, when beginnings and endings sit side by side, I find I glimpse something of the mystery of life in all its fullness.

Thank God for those hear the call, and having heard offer their simple 'yes' to walk in the footsteps of Jesus to Calvary and beyond.