At 3:30 a.m. the alarm went off, dragging me from slumber, even disturbing the kitties who looked aksance as if to say "but Mummy it's not breakfast time yet" - quite strange not to have them racing into the kitchen, tails up, purring like motorbikes whilst I stumble, bleary eyed, behind them.

At 5:00 the taxi arrived with ten seconds of me putting the phone down - I raced down three flights of stairs, out into unexpected drizzle, then leaped in.  In under five minutes I was at my destination.  Plenty of time to grab a skinny decaf Fairtrade latte before boarding my train.

An experiment today - on the grounds that the quiet coach is always packed, and that usually there are people wtih VERY LOUD VOICES who ignore the 'no phone calls' rule, I booked a seat in an ordinary carriage.  And so far it is totally, utterly blissfully silent... until the train manager starts an announcement anyway.

So I have now completed some work, played around on social media (it seems other people are up are silly o'clock too) because for once the on-train wifi is working.  And now I'm posting this.

There was a time, even relatively recently, when I would not have attempted such a long day, but today it just seems to make sense, my week is cram-packed with stuff and the early-late day with snooze time potential on at least one train is the least challenging option.  Funny to think that five years ago, had someone said I'd be doing this again, I'd have thought they were impossibily optimistic, but here I am.

Train now chugging out of Carlisle on its way south.  A busy day of charity trustee work ahead - but I am grateful to God that I am able to do so.

Time to check my emails, read the papers for the meeting then maybe snatch a quick snooze before the train fills up.

Yesterday we had an important information meeting at church which included a presentation by a secular organisation, whose representative would not, I suspect, profess an active faith of any kind. 

We began, as any church gathering would, with a short act of devotion, in which I invited "those who felt comfortable so to do" to join in the responses.  Our guest politely and quietly sat in with us, observing, I thought.  This is what we shared.

Opening Responses

This is the place, and this is the time;

Here and now, God waits to break into our experience;

To open our minds

To revitalise our lives

To transform our understanding

To help us see the world, and the whole of life afresh

          To fill us with hope and joy

          To give us confidence for the future

This is the place, as are all places

This is the time, as are all times.

          Here and now let us worship God.

Psalm  127

Unless the Lord builds the house,
   those who build it labour in vain.
Unless the Lord guards the city,
   the guard keeps watch in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early
   and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
   for he gives sleep to his beloved.

Sons are indeed a heritage from the Lord,
   the fruit of the womb a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior
   are the sons of one’s youth.
Happy is the man who has
   his quiver full of them.
He shall not be put to shame
   when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Psalm 133

How very good and pleasant it is
   when kindred live together in unity!
It is like the precious oil on the head,
   running down upon the beard,
on the beard of Aaron,
   running down over the collar of his robes.
It is like the dew of Hermon,
   which falls on the mountains of Zion.
For there the Lord ordained his blessing,
   life for evermore.

Silent Reflection

Prayer

At the start of his presentation, the peaker thnaked us for our welcome and for including him in our devotions (I had mentioned gratitude for his company in our prayers).

After the presentation, we had a tea-break during which I chatted to the guest speaker.  Diffidently he asked me "may I take away the devotions sheet".  Of course!

Then he pointed to the line in Psalm 127 , "Sons are indeed a heritage from the Lord" observing that's really beautiful, and then told me, like any proud father of young boys, about his two sons, the one who had been tap dancing in the bathroom late at night, and the one who had gone with him to the office to print papers for our meeting and had drawn a picture of a  tractor.  "Precious moments" I said.

The thing is, I had very nearly chopped the second half of Psalm 127, feeling that it didn't quite fit - and then thought "hang it, it's a short Psalm, we should have it in full".

And so, indeed we should have.

I have no idea what the ultimate significance of any of that is, and actually I'm not too concerned.

But that precious, beautiful moment in the middle of a meeting .... that'll be God, then!