This week sees the start of the "nuking" or "zapping" or any other euphemism for radiotherapy.  It is a slightly odd place to be, waiting on my metaphorical riverbank to begin picking my way across the stepping stones to (hopefully) freedom.

It is slightly odd because, apart from a bit of discomfort in my arm/shoulder/back I feel totally well and healthy, ready for anything, champing at the bit to be back at work.  It is lovely listening to other preachers, but I want to be back doing it!  My church has been well cared for over these weeks of my "general uselessness" as I termed it pre-surgery, and I am very grateful to those who have filled the pulpit - but I so want "my" role back now please!

This morning I sang with the choir - the first time singing alto (being a mezzo I can, theoretically sing either that or soprano) and it was great fun.  This completed my exploration of different seating positions, gaining alternative views of church.  I will probably sing with the choir again before Easter (next week I have house guests so it would wrong to), which will be good.

As I wait to cross the river, as I've had a couple of weeks of enjoyment doing things that are fun rather than necessary, I am very conscious of being upheld these past months by the prayers, love and good wishes of many, many people.  This last little bit doesn't hold fear for me, though it may prove both tiring and irksome before it is done.  It is just a case of one step at a time to reach the far bank of the river.

A few years back I came across an Iona song that speaks into tough situations, and which I found myself recalling as I pondered the stepping stones that take me over my river.  The truth is I step into a brighter tomorrow, other people are entering, or remain within, their own times of trial, fear, doubt, anxiety or other 'darkness'.  This is for them:

1  Unsure, when what was bright turns dark
    and life, it seems, has lost its way,
    we question what we once believed
    and fear that doubt has come to stay.
    We sense the worm that gnaws within
    has withered willpower, weakened bones,
    and wonder whether all that's left
    is stumbling blocks or stepping stones.

2  Where minds and bodies reel with pain
    which nervous smiles can never mask,
    and hope is forced to face despair
    and all the things it dare not ask;
    aware of weakness, guilt or shame,
    the will gives out, the spirit groans,
    and clutching at each straw we find
    more stumbling blocks than stepping stones.

3  Where family life has lost its bliss
    and silences endorse mistrust,
    or anger boils and tempers flare
    as love comes under threat from lust;
    where people cannot take the strain
    of worklessness and endless loans,
    what pattern will the future weave -
    just stumbling blocks, no stepping stones?

4  Where hearts that once held love are bare
    and faith, in shreds, compounds the mess;
    where hymns and prayers no longer speak
    and former friends no longer bless;
    and when the church where some belonged
    no more their loyalty enthrones,
    the plea is made, 'If you are there,
    turn stumbling blocks to stepping stones!'

5  Ah, God, you, with the Maker's eye,
    can tell if all that's feared is real,
    and see if life is more than what
    we suffer, dread, despise and feel.
    If some by faith no longer stand,
    nor hear the truth your voice intones,
    stretch out your hand to help your folk
    from stumbling block to stepping stones.

John L Bell and Graham Maule © 1989 WGRG, Iona Community

May God grant you safe passage across your own river.