This post is a fairly shameless plug for my latest charity fund-raising effort.

On 23rd August 2010, in the whitewashed room of Victorian hospital, now in the process of being closed, I was looked in the eye by a surgeon who uttered the words, "I'm sorry it's cancer."

Back then, I was terrifed that I would not see Christmas, despite his assurance that "we'll talk about this infive years time."  Suffice to say, I have long since learned to trust my surgeon.

Then I thought, well, if I get to five years, that'll be cause for celebration.

Then I grew up. 

Perhaps that a little harsh. 

Since then I have come to appreciate what a vile, unpredictable set of diseases cancer is, destroying hope, gobbling confidence, tearing families apart, leaving a trail of pain and sorrow.  To celebrate my good fortune, when friends whose initial prognoses were so much better than mine are no longer here, seems crass and inappropriate.

But I do want to mark the date, a paradigm shift in my experience and understanding.  And I do want to express my gratitude to the many, many people who have shared those five years.

So I am creating a 'thankfulness' playlist.  In exchange for a donation of £5 to CRUK, donors can choose a song/hymn/piece of music which I will download, add to the list and play on the afternoon on 23rd August 2015 (between church services!!)

I chose CRUK after a lot of thought... I have been supported by folk in all parts of the UK, so it felt appropriate to choose a UK-wide charity.  For all the vital work done by support charities, in the end it comes down to research.  And because I have friends affected by many types of cancer, it needed to be general.  So CRUK was the best fit.

The link is here and I look forward to finding which songs etc are chosen.

It was one of these conversations that crop up now and then about ministerial life.

The other person was very clear that certain things were/are not my job and that my time ought to be spent ... well doing things I already do but, seemingly, to the exclusion of the things they think are not my job.

Reflecting, it kind of makes me smile, because, were I to ask people at church what they consider is or is not my job, I have a feeling that there would be a small core of expectations and beyond that it would vary quite considerably.

Which makes me step back a little and ask myself, so what is my job?  And do I allocate time and energy according to what I perceive as my priorities?  Am I more reactive than proactive?  What do I shy away from facing that needs to be addressed?  What would I happily spend all day and every day doing?

Lots of stuff that I do is "not my job"... but really, so what?  I have a job that allows me immense privileges not afforded to folk with tight job descriptions.  I have the liberty to work from church or home or even in the park.  I can order craft materials and call it work or listen to music online in a quest to identify something to use in worship.  I might have days that stretch to 14, 16 or 18 hours (one such tomorrow), I might end up feeling bruised by conversations, I might have to apologise for some actual or perceived error of judgement... but such is the cost of the flexibility I enjoy.

So I think I'll carry on with the stuff that is "not my job" that is part of the way I feel ministry ought to be shaped.  I'll accept that that won't match everyone's (or anyone's) expectations or desires, but that's OK.  And every now and then, there will be the conversations that make me pause and reflect - and that's got to be a good thing too.