Yesterday I received an invitation to be part of a conference taking place next May in Glasgow to celebrate the centenary of the first woman minister to be ordained in Scotland.  She was in the Church of the Nazarene, and her name was Olive Winchester.  On May 12th 1912 she was ordained.  What is intriguing is that this was more than a decade earlier than the Baptists and Congregationalists in England (who squabble regularly about who was first!) altough of course Deaconesses and 'She Preachers' go back far further and it is a moot point whether or not they were 'real' ministers.

Any road up, as the saying goes, once I have more information, I as hysterical historical object and "exhibit 'A'" will be preparing to partiicpate in something that I think is really important and rather wonderful.... a day for celebrating women ministers in Scotland.

It has been a busy few weeks since I had a proper break back in August!  My weekend away in September feels like a distant memory, and I am glad that in just over a week I have a few days away from it all to relax, unwind, read books (nothing heavy, precious little theology), hopefully swim (if my scars/shoulder are up to it) and maybe walk a bit if the weather is half decent.

I read somewhere recently that it takes as long to recover from cancer treatment as it takes to have the treatment - which means I still have a fair few months to go before I have a right to expect to feel properly recovered.  Most of the time I feel great, but I do get tired far more easily than I used to, and the last week or two it has begun to 'tell' as I get increasingly tetchy.

Partly, I think, that's because I have expended a lot of emotional energy in recent weeks, not in relation to myself or to my anxieties, but in trying to support other people in plural contexts, trying to hear diverse voices, trying to to maintain my integrity even when that it would be far less demanding to capitulate.  Funerals, illness, debates, resolutions, requests for help... it's all good, but it's demanding.

I have a suspicion that some of the tetchiness is mixed up with a sense of loss, a level of grieving for those parts of me - physical, emotional, intellectual - that have been taken away by the experiences of the past year or so.  I have a feeling that we aren't always so good at giving ourselves the spaces and places we need to mourn the 'little deaths' that occur along life's way.

This Sunday is Remembrance Sunday, when we will be recalling those who died in armed conflict.  It will also include an opportunity to recall our own losses.  There will be an opportunity to remember those we have loved and lost - this year or many years ago.  There will also we acknowledgement that there are other losses we need permission to mourn... be that loss of a breast, loss of a partner through divorce, loss of dreams, loss of certainty....

So, what energy I have this week is being poured into preparing for Sunday... and if I am snappy or snarly in the meantime, I'm sorry... I'm just 'bone tired' as they say in some parts of England.  Or 'tired and emotional' as Paul O'Grady would put it!