An interesting conversation arose this morning at my exercise class.  One of the members who professes atheism, and knows I'm a Baptist minister, asked me 'didn't you feel a bit pee-ed off with God when you got cancer?  After all you don't drink, you don't smoke, you're not overweight [I wish!] and you live a good life.'  She seemed intrigued when I answered, truthfully, that no, I wasn't.  Just then another member of the class arrived, who is also a practising Christian and she was asked the same thing.  She answered that she felt you had a choice to go under or to 'praise God through the storm' and in any case she wasn't worried because she knew her ultimate destination.  Just two possible reactions from people who profess a Christian faith.

It then got a bit silly - each person was asked as they arrived 'are you a bl**dy Christian too?'  Most said, yes, they were.  A couple are practising Catholics, one was C of S, another said that while she didn't go to church and hadn't been christened she did believe.  Our atheist was relieved when our one Asian member arrived as she wouldn't be 'another bl**dy Christian'.

There was a lot of good-natured banter and some open talk about baptism (cue Catriona explaining about serious dunking) as well as some thought about what kind of God, what it was reasonable for Christians to expect in return for their loyalty, and the mystery of suffering.

At the end of the class we had some muffins to celebrate the end of my treatment (delayed because several people including the regular instructor were away last week) and a cup of tea or coffee and a chat that extended to include some of the members talking about their views on some of the complimentary therapies they had been offered.

I think one of the things that I like about this class is the openness and genuineness of the women who partake.  Our cancer experiences are as unique as we are, but there is a common bond born out of them.  Those who were picked up on screening are genuinely grateful not to have experienced the 'delights' some of us others have shared.  Everyone rejoices when someone has good news - a clear mammogram, a successful scan, the end of a phase of treatment - and I suspect everyone would mourn should there be bad news.

Next Sunday (i.e. a week tomorrow) the rest of the group are walking the Race for Life together.  One of them has been out buying black tutus for the others, someone else is on the look out for fluffy pink headdresses; still another will arrive with Mars bars.  There is something healthily intentional about this group - there is shared experience, shared anxiety, shared joy.  Most of the women have some kind of faith, and those who don't may tease the rest of us, but only in a generous-spirited way.

So, I'm happy to be  a bl**dy Christian, happy to explain why I'm not mad at God about the past year, happy to be part of this little intentional community that meets on a Saturday morning in an upper room for ritual music and movement culminating in tea and biscuits.

So, I found this nice book bindery in Partick who will bind according to Manchester requirements even though they differ from the requirements of any of the three Glasgow universities they usually serve.  I had to smile when I saw the name of their website so - dadbookbinders - which gave it a homely feel but also suggested something like dad dancing.

Downie Allison Downie - the premises are a small industrial unit in a side street behind Partick library (handy for them no doubt) and you walk in to a room stacked high with theses awaiting collection.  How many person-hours of blood sweat and tears are contained in those black books with gold lettering on the spine (and one soft bound pre-examination Manchester thesis also with gold lettering on the spine)?

Mr Dad the proprietor was very friendly and helpful, whilst Ms Dad the order-taker seemed thrilled to have someone who didn't need their bound work now, this minute, my deadline is in an hour.

So, collect said thesis on Tuesday morning and post it recorded delivery to reach Manchester in good time for the (revised) deadline.

Then, in a few weeks, hopefully back to DAD for the beautiful black hardbound version to join the legion of others in a dusty store at the unversity..

Phew!  After three days of angst and frsutration the university have sorted the necessary for my electronic submission of my thesis and extended the deadline for the hardcopies by two weeks.

It felt SO good to hit the send button and get the thing winging its way south.

An odd week for Gatherers - there are two of us (me in my forties, the other in her very, very late twenties; both technically 'mature') making final post grad submissions this week.  Hopefully our stress levels will be lower once it's done.

Now, just the small matter of finding a thesis binder in Glasgow that can meet the requirements of Manchester University 'soft' binding (i.e. hard binding with a soft cover!).  It is possible the one close to where our church once planted can do this (haven't checked yet) but the one nearest the Gathering Place can't even though it's website said it could...!  Hey nonny noony.

(Of course the nice bit of irony is that the essay that appeared in print this week is one chapter of my thesis, so it was published before it was (finally) submitted!)

This morning I listened to the radio news to be told about...

Hopsitals in England failing to care adequately for older patients

Roads in England being in a dreadful state due to bad weather

Sex offenders in England and Wales including many under 18.

Notice a bit of the theme here?  All the bad stuff is happening in England (and sometimes Wales).  I need to listen more closely to see if the good stuff is too.  I have a suspicion that maybe it's just any stuff that happens in England.  Maybe the BBC should be renamed the EBC?!

It's a distorted picture for sure...

I have seen older people being neglected in hospital in Scotland

The roads in Glasgow are in an appalling state after two hard winters

I haven't a clue about sex offenders in Scotland because no-one tells us.

I guess the flip side of this is evident in the reporting of the General Synod of the C of E and lack of reporting of the General Assembly of the C of S.  So we hear loads about the C of E tying itself in knots over the questions around who may or may not be ordained or appointed as a bishop and almost zilch about the C of S when it debates similar topics.

Courtesy of the e-news sweep from the BUGB (that's the Baptist Union of England and a bit of Wales, plus three in Scotland and one in Spain) I have been pointed to some reporting on the C of S debates about the ordination of openly gay clergy.   The position is quite simple, they've agreed that those already ordained can carry on and they will go away and think for a couple of years about what next.  Whether that's a helpful decision is another thing, but it's not exactly all that far from the C of E fudges at various times.  I felt it was telling in this report when the minister who was contemplating leaving the Kird said he'd be discussing things with his 'evangelical brothers'... are there no evangelical sisters?  Oh, silly me, they should be making tea not serving as ministers of the Kirk!

sassa frassa rassa university!

So, the person who can fix the glitch isn't in today and "might" be in tomorrow.

Hurrah for my supervisor who said 'well, we'll just have to extend your deadline then' - thank goodness for a teeny bit of common sense.  Medal for Dr Scott methinks.