I am feeling disproprotionately pleased with myself now I've completed my jigsaw.  Many, many hours of patient searching sorting, inserting, removing, rotating, delight and frsutration, and  now I have the complete image of this amazing painting... well until I smash it up again so that I can get my kitchen table back!

I discovered a love of jigsaws in the early days after my surgery four years ago, when I used them to try to regain my concentration... four years on it is still not great, and now there is is scientific research to support that assertion!  I blogged about it here and here and again here and here.

I have enjoyed working may way through this jigsaw - even the slog of the final 100 pieces, requiring utter focus and concentration, and a little dull to be honest.  And the whole process gave me plenty of pause for thought as I reflect on ministry in general and my endeavours in particular!

Whilst I'm less enthusiastic about finding tidy edges to what we might term ministry, it certainly needs to be bounded for practical reasons if nothing else.  Identifying and defining those bounds is not always easy, and sometimes the edges do change, or bits have to be rearranged because they don't quite fit.

There are aspects of ministry that are easy, energising and rewarding, just as there are aspects of a jigsaw that can be quickly identified and put together to reveal part of the image.

There are times when, for whatever reason, and they are many and varied, a piece gets put in upside down or in the the wrong place... just as in ministry sometimes things don't fit or don't work or I just plain old fashioned get them wrong.

And sometimes it is all just a long, necessary slog of piecing together sky or sea, or in this case oxen.  And sometimes ministry can be like that too - lots of effort and little evidence of achievement.

Finally the last piece is in place... well never in ministry, but there are those moments of euphoria when it seems as if it all comes together, at least for a while.

Not a perfect metaphor, for sure, but one that has helped me reflect a little, and I think verall that's good.

And above all, some relaxation as I've plodded my way through the jigsaw... now I really do have to get the housework done!!

Last night's television adapatation of Lisa Lynch's book "The C  Word" and her blog 'Alright Tit' was something I was keen to watch and at the same time a little apprehensive about.  During my treatment I dipped in and out of Lisa's blog, and never linked it, largely because at the time she was in her shortlived NED phase so the degree of resonance wasn't that great.  But there is absolutely no doubt that the blog and the book have been greatly appreciated by countless younger, and not so young, women affected by breast cancer (and their families and friends).

It was good to watch the adaptation - inevitably interpretted and selective - noting the similarities and differences along the way. 

For me there were two scenes that had special resonance...

First was the scene where Lisa comes into the bedroom having washed her hair, and half (or more) of it has gone.  I remembered that all too well.  I blogged about it here.  What I didn't do was to post a photo of what I looked like without a scarf (I changed my profile picture to me wearing a green scarf that went with my suit).  Seeing the actress (who really did have her hair cut, thinned and shaved for the part - much respect) standing there reminded me of a photo I took at the time, which I reproduce here in a 'small' version, as it might be a bit uncomfortable to look at...

The other scene that I found very striking was right at the end, when, following the death of one of her online friends, she met the other two.  I am told that this never actually happened, as Lisa's own health was failing and another of the girls died, nonetheless, symbolically it echoed the deep and wonderful friendships that are formed among people arising from shared adversity.  I have enacted similar scenes in Glasgow, Edinburgh, London, Derby and Morecambe.  This photo from last summer is of the Squirrels in London... when we meet again in Blackpool we will be one down, as one girl is no longer with us.  And  we will continue to live, love and laugh.  Because if the C-word teached you nothing else, it's that life is for living.