The photo has nothing to do with the theme, beyond the fact that our residential weekend took place at the 'Vicar School' as the venue we usually go to wasn't available.

Our theme was deaf awareness, and was led by a deaf minister accompanied by a hearing ally.  It was a really full and thought-provoking weekend, greatly appreciated by all who took part in it.

The highlight was definitely the closing Communion, which was entirely in BSL with nothing spoken and no music.  Watching the signs (and being able to follow the English translation on screen) was beautiful and meaningful, especially as it has been a weekend of so many, many words.

I feel very privileged to be part of this community which is committed to learning with and from each other.

My mum always used to say at the end of the school holidays we were back to 'old clothes and porridge' which was her anglified version of the Scottish expression 'auld claes 'n' parrtich'.

So today is just that.  Back at my desk after two very relaxed weeks, good boundary ,and recharging my introverted batteries.

I have had a truly wonderful holiday, all by myself, apart from two visits to friends for meals.  I have eaten way too much, exercised way to little, been to the cinema and the theatre (panto), made jigsaws, tidied rooms, got up late (by my standards) listened to audio books, snuggled with kitties, taken very few trains (and only for leisure) and almost detached myself from thinking about work,

Now it's back to work, and a lot to do in a full first week back at the desk.  Looking forward to what the days ahead bring... and replete with posh porridge as illustrated above!

In 2019 I started using Duolingo to brush up my French ahead of an overseas mission trip with out teenagers we had planned for 2020... it never happened as the world changed, but I plodded on, adding in a smattering of Greek, Gaelic and German as well as a few months of Welsh, and a hurtle through the 'math' (arithmetic).  Now, having kept on almost everyday and completing 2000 active days, I have cancelled my subscription and am going to look for a new challenge going forward.  I'm not sure what yet - a break from the relentless daily translation of useless sentences is definitely in order.

It feels like only yesterday that I joined a group of slightly eccentric Anglicans in Manchester's Albert Square to 'Mark the Millennium'.  Somehow or other they had persuaded the then Bishop of Manchester to join us to sing Cliff Richard's 'Millennium Prayer' when everyone else was singing 'Auld Lang Syne'.  I had already led, at the vicar's request' a service to coincide with 2000 dawning in Samoa (I can't recall what I said, but it was well enough received).  So how come that we are now on the brink of 2025, that quarter of a century has flown past, and that woman in her middle thirties is now in her early sixties?!

New Year's Eve is the annual anniversary of completing my chemotherapy in 2010, so that's fourteen years ago, a day when I pause briefly to give thanks for the wonder of modern medicine and the NHS services across these islands.  Today as part of my volunteering, I spoke to a woman just about to begin her own chemo journey... I guess I have spoken to a few hundred women over the years, and it never ceases to be a privilege.

I last made a New Year's resolution more than 45 years ago, and successfully kept it - a decision never to make any more!  But it's always good to pause at New Year, not to make plans for the year ahead, but to remind myself of all I have to be grateful for, and to commit whatever may lie ahead to the God who is present in it all.

So, these well-loved words from Bonhoeffer, in a 'Baptist' translation...

By gracious powers so wonderfully sheltered
And confidently waiting, come what may,
We know that God is with us night and morning,
And never fails to meet us each new day.

Yet are our hearts by their old foe tormented
Still evil days bring burdens hard to bear;
O give our frightened souls the sure salvation
For which, O Lord, you taught us to prepare.

And when the cup you give is filled to brimming
With bitter suffering, hard to understand,
We take it gladly, trusting though with trembling,
Out of so good and so beloved a hand.
    
If once again, in this mixed world, you give us
The joy we had, the brightness of your sun,
We shall recall what we have learned through sorrow,
And dedicate our lives to you alone.

Now as your silence deeply spreads around us,
Open our ears to hear your children raise
From all the world, from every nation round us,
To you their universal hymn of praise.

Fred Pratt Green (1903-2000) and Keith Clements (born 1943) based on the German of Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945)

Wishing all readers a Happy, Healthy and Peaceful New Year and, if this isn't possible, then at least the assurance that God shares in all of life.

Way back in 2005, I attended the BWA Conference in Birmingham, and one day we arrived to find vast numbers of armed police and sniffer dogs checking out the conference centre... former US President Jimmy Carter was due to be speaking in the evening.

I can't remember the detail of his 'Sunday School lesson', as he described it, which was one of the finest sermons I've ever heard, though I recall it being about unity, diversity and inclusivity, about true Baptistness at a time when the US SBC had left the BWA over (ostensibly at least) ordination of women.  I think the text was from Colossians 2 (that would make sense given what he said) rather than Galatians 3, which I'd expected from his introduction.  It certainly made an impression on me, and I am glad I had the privilege of hearing him.

A man of integrity, who lived out his faith in practical service: faith expressed in deeds is faith fully alive.  May he rest in peace and rise on glory.