I'm home after a privileged and pleasurable weekend sharing with a young couple as they entered the covenant of marriage.  It has been a weekend of 'hmm' and 'wow' moments to be sure...

I always like to buy a "silly gift" for couples I marry, something of little monetary worth but that somehow symbolises something about their marriage.  This time, I'd failed misterably - or so I thought. 

On Friday morning I'd nipped out to do some last minute shopping, and had been given a £2 coin in my change.  I thought nothing of this, and set off to catch my train.  At the railway station, I bought a cup of tea and handed over the coin in payment, spotting too late, so I thought, that it was really shiny and new.  The young man took a close look at it, handed it back and said, "you should keep that, it's valuable - worth around £50."  Somewhat nonplussed, I took back the coin and sifted through my change for alternative means of payment!  What an honest and generous young man, who could simply have swapped the coin for his own change after I'd left...

Curious, I tapped in to my phone the details of the coin, and, sure enough, it is relatively rare, a special edition coin, minted for the 800th anniversary of Magna Carta, and currently selling for £10-£15 on well-known websites.  A bit more searching revealed that an historian had been furious at the design, King John is holding a quill pen to sign the document when , actually, he would simply have used a royal seal.

Suddenly, I had my daft gift... the Bible reading chosen by the couple was from Song of Songs 8:6-7 and begins "set me as a seal upon your heart..."

So, I told the story as part of my address and gave them the coin, telling them not to spend it, but to put it in a drawer and, every now and then, when they came across it, to remember the promises they made this day.

Hmmm....

This morning the new Mrs C handed me a small packet saying, that this was a thank you gift for me... as I opened it, I discovered this wonderful, carefully designed piece which was inspired by my New Zealand koru (unfurling fern) brooch - which I had worn yesterday for the wedding ceremony.  It is stunning beautiful, a real 'wow' moment and also a kind of a 'hmm' moment too.  My unfurling fern, a Maori symbol of new life and/or resurrection is a precious possession way beyond its monetary value.  This beautiful necklet expresses the same symbolism, consciously or unconsciously, and I will treasure it always.

In the silly and in the sacred; in symbols great and small; in moments that make you laugh and in moments that take away your breath, God speaks, and I am so glad that, in these few days, I heard.

It's no secret that I'm not a great one for place attachment.  Almost every significant building in my life has been demolished or compeletly redesigned.  Places I walked have been buried under housing estates.  Recently I discovered that the church building where I was baptised and ordained is about to be sold - no doubt it will be demolished (it's not a nice building!!).  And so on, and so forth.

At the same time, I am very aware that for other people buildings and places carry huge signficance.  In this place all the major milestones of their lives were marked.  Here they went to school; there they met their life-partner... so I am always careful not to let my experiences undermine the authentic attachments of others.

It was a bit of surprise, then, last Sunday when I was spending some time alone in the Gathering Place, taking photos of noticeboards and other random, mundane things, that a memory floated up from my subconscious dating back to 16th September 2010!

A beautiful sunny day... a Thursday... and a day when, 24 days (I just counted!) after my cancer diagnosis, and the ensuing rush of appointments and tests and goodness knows what, I had a gift of a day to draw breath.  A day in which I went into the hall and span (spun?, not sure of correct form!) myself round and round like a child until I was dizzy. 

I realised that, for me, this place carries part of my story too - my major life events.  Not in the once beautiful sanctuary, but in the tired, red lino of the hall; not only in the public and wonderful, such as my induction, but in the private and poignant, such as that day in 2010.

Perhaps it's ironic that the hospital where I was diagnosed is no more... perhaps it is the story of my life that places where my signficant moments exist only in my imperfect memory.

Today, I will be travelling north to stay in a real live castle, and to conduct a marriage ceremony for a young couple.  One day they will look back and recall that place, that day... one day, too, this place will be part of my story and, mysteriously, I part of its.

So, I made a decision not to go to the meeting this evening... after all I'd already done (and it has been pretty much nonstop for ten hours) I decided enough was enough, that my presence wasn't critical or even necessary, but that other things, including rest, were.

And it felt good, freeing even, to make that call, rather than heading out feeling cream crackered and probably tetchy as a result.

Still have some church-related stuff to look at before the day ends, but at least I won't be risking falling asleep on a train and ending up who knows where!!

Definitely a diverse day today.

I've just finalised and printed off the marriage service, so that all is ready for when I travel north tomorrow.  Always a privilege and a responsibility, always surprisingly demanding as well as delighting... always that slight edge of "have I got this right" about what I say.

In a couple of hours, I'll be setting out with two others to share communion in the home of another couple, whose marriage is an example of faithful outworking of the vows made by young people filled with hope.  The "old love" is wonderful to behold, the tenderness and affection, patience and practicality, all forged in the 'crucible' of life's experience.

After lunch it's time for my ocassional meeting with my Pastoral Supervisor - a precious and valuable space to reflect and refresh, rethink, regroup, relax... and there will be a few 'in town' tasks  to fit in too.

Then I need to tidy up the vestry enough that the cover preacher for Sunday can actually get in the door and sit down without tripping over piles of stationary, craft materials and other stuff I am in the process of sorting out.

And evening brings a short train ride to the south east of the city for a 'Mission Forum' meeting - a time of sharing and support with folk from other Baptist churches in this city.

Never dull - lots of variety and lots to stimulate the old grey matter along the way!!