Sometimes I am amazed that I am still maintaining a blog so many years after it began... but if the book on introverts that I'm reading is correct, it is partly a result of my introvert nature.  It seems that introverts can be more comfortable expressing thoughts and feelings in a 'virtual' world than a 'real' one - so blogs and social media suit us well.  I think that's true in my case, and is perhaps why  sometimes people comment on the level of openness and honesty when I write about personal things.  And I suspect that's why every once in a while I post something that causes enough offence that it has to be taken down or retracted.

When I began blogging, hardly anyone read my stuff, and certainly no-one in my church.  It was a place where I could experiment with ideas fairly safely, knowing pretty much who might be reading the 'ramblings, reflections and rubbish' I posted. 

Moving north to the Gathering Place changed all that and a lot of folk in church read this stuff - probably more than I am aware of.  So things changed, it became more reporting of church life. 

After my cancer diagnosis it became a safe-enough space to share news and feelings, and it certainly attracted huge numbers of readers (those days, rightly, are pretty much past now). 

More recently it has changed again and the readership of which I am aware (mostly I haven't a clue who the 1500+ readers a month are) means that I often need to think before I write in a way that I'm not always so good at.  Sometimes frustrations (justifed or not) and grumpiness spill over into to what I express. 

So time for more changes I think.

One change is a return to journalling - something I was forced to do for a decade as part of my ministerial training and formation, and then by the university when doing my research degree.  After a decade I was sick and tired of it and needed a break.  For all that, the ability to blurt my thoughts onto paper (or a laptop) stood me in good stead for journalling my way through my cancer treatment (and indeed I still maintain that journal albeit very infrequently... treatment and side effects continue and I need a safe, private place to record and reflect upon them).

Last summer I bought a beautiful book to start a new journal - it never got going for various reasons, which I have now thought more about, and put into proper perspective.  I do need a safe space to record the aspects of ministerial life that are not helpfully shared via a blog, and the journal meets that need. 

Which leaves me with a question of "what now for my blog?"  And the answer is, I'm not sure.  Times have changed, I have changed, the readership has changed.  I don't feel I want to give it up yet, but I'm not honestly sure what the future holds for it.

Has this blog run its course?  I'm not sure.  But as I've said at various times in the last couple of years, frequency and content are likely to change.  That's not wrong.  In fact it's probably very right. 

The important thing for me is to be clear what I share where and why.

So to all my loyal readers, thank you for your ongoing support - it is you who make this blog the 'live' thing it is, and whose occasional annoyance at my cluminess, as well as kind support and encouragement are equally important as checks and balances along the way.

This morning's Pentecost service seemed to be well received, and I certainly had some fun.

The All Together bit involved balloons and bubbles - without air all you have is a bag made of rubber or a pot of soapy water.  And you have to get the blowing just right.  I accidentally burst the first balloon I blew up - amazingly no small people burst into tears and everyone laughed.  And the bubble mix was tempremental, taking a few goes to produce half decent bubbles.  But it did give an unplanned illustration that the Holy Spirit as 'breath' of God is more than just pumping in air, it has to be the right amount at the right pressure.  It reminded me of a ditty once in SU material that said:

If we are all mind we dry up

If we are all spirit we blow up

If we are mind and spirit we grow up

The readings in German, French, Yoruba and Welsh were lovely, and it was possible to pick out words that made it possible to follow what was being said.  One person commented on the French reading and the word 'soufle' for breath, which is so close to souffle (or maybe is just a variant, I'm not sure) and the image of a souffle as the 'breath' filled expression of, well on omelette I suppose!

It was a good morning, lots of amazing music in many styles.  I had fun and I hope other people found something helpful along the way.

Today I read an online magazine article written by someone who is shy and an introvert.  It resonated with my own experiences as a shy child, and an introvert adult, sufficiently that it prompted me to buy the book mentioned.  "Quiet" by Susan Cain, which I bought electronically and have managed to read 25% of in a single sitting before my brain went "phut" after two hours, seems to be a helpful and well researched exploration reclaiming the value, even the necessity, of people who naturally introvert in a society increasingly predicated on extroversion.

So far, it's good stuff, and I hope by the end of it I will feel more energised and inspired to be who I am...

This evening I visited the chapel at Glasgow's Western Infirmary for the first and last time, sharing in a poignant and beautiful service/ceremony to mark its closure along with the hospital in a few weeks time.

I have spent many hours at the Western... twice in A&E as a patient, umpteen times in Clinic 5 (breast clinic) and even more in MAU, F1, F2, G2, G3 and level 10 visiting folk from church.  The privilege of holding the hand of very sick people... The anxiety and the relief of results... the cup of tea from a china cup on the day I learned what fear actually is... the conversations in the car park or in lifts...

As the Western closes and services are sent elsewhere, an era ends.  The future will be fine, in time the concerns (some of which are really quite serious) will be overcome and we will all forget that once we sat in a tatty, draughty Victorian hospital that was built a year after the Gathering Place.  The memories will live on on the hearts of all for whom it was a place of work or a place of treatment.  I am grateful for the Western and was pleased to be there tonight to say 'goodbye'.

I still wish I knew the answer to that one!  So far today it has included...

Admin stuff before I left home

Putting a new battery in the clock in the church corridor

An important meeting off site

A phone call on an important and fairly urgent matter

A 'door-knocking' encounter from folk in crisis and needing support

Sorting out heating for a room hire where it seemed not to have kicked in on time, which involved both checking the timers and carting numerous heaters and fire guards around the building.

And it still isn't lunch time!

So of course, instead of work, I opt for the displacement activity of blogging.