A quick skim of social media this morning and assorted friends posting about their children starting GCSES - the Scottish National 5s are well underway but much more spread out.

I suddenly realised that it's forty years since I say my 'O' levels, during a very sunny June in 1979.  I can still recall English Language and Literature, and Maths in the Sports Hall; Physics, Chemistry, History and French in the Main Hall, Tech Drawing in the Tech Drawing room (where else?!) and RE in the Scout Hut!  I can still recall the bemusement of having a 'moderated' answer booklet for my English language paper and the smirking external examiner who read over everyone's shoulders in the Physics exam.  I still recall the topics for French Conversation, the essays I wrote for English (lang and lit), parts of the RE paper (notably my essay on the Last Supper) and some questions from other exams.  I still remember worrying how many marks I'd lose on the English precis because I mis-spelled 'pillage' and the awful sinking feeling when I opened the history paper to discover not a single question that matched what we'd been taught.

I liked exams, and, not wishtanding the disaster in history, generally did really well. I'm not even sorry about the history, it was good to learn early what failure and disappointment look like; in any case, I now have published work on church history, so all's well that ends well, maybe!

Forty years later, it's sobering to look back and realise just how important those exams seemed, indeed were, and how little they actually count for in the end. 

Today we took a glance at the letters to the churches in Revelation 2 and 3, and had the opportunity, if we wished, to write a message in the same sort of style to our own congregation...

To The Gathering Place Church,

I am delighted that...

It would be wonderful if...

I want to encourage you with these words...

Love from Jesus

Many people participated, and those several had the courage/openness to share those 'letters' with me.  I have enjoyed reading them, been humbled, challenged and encouraged by them - which means that they did exactly what I might have hoped.

I wonder what others might write to their churches? 

This afternoon I finally met in real life someone I've known for around eight years, along with a mutual friend we've each known that long.  We met online in adverse circumstances and have chatted over the years.  Today we finally met in Glasgow because D is in Scotland for a weekend break, and L and I were both free.

The photo is the cover of the tea (coffee, etc.) menu from our Deluxe Afternoon Tea in the Willow tearoom on Sauchiehall Street.  It wasn't cheap, but it wasn't extortionate and we devoured every last morsel. We chatted about all sorts of stuff, some happy, some sad, and most importantly, celebrated life.

The sun shone, we enjoyed some time at Kelvingrove museum and a ride on the subway, we ate a wonderful meal together and smiled a lot. I'm tired now, and I have work still to do, but choosing life, living well and making the most of opportunities, that's well worth than having to play catch up this evening! 

Absolutely ages ago (must be at least two years or so) I was invited to submit a response to a set of questions posed to women in Baptist ministry, which would be used as part of a "something" for the centenary.  That is now live and can be found here.

What I like best is the 'hmmm' bit that the first of these women was born in 1883, the year The Gathering Place began, and died in 1962, the year I was born.  I think she came from Northants, as I am sure there is a story somewhere about her attending the agricultural college in Moulton, where one of my brothers studied in the 1980s.

Anyway, if you are interested, do take a look at some of the stories.

This beautiful image of a rose (Lady of Shalott) landed in my inbox yesterday.  It was taken by one of my brothers and is the first bloom on the rosebush he bought to remember my Mum who died a year ago today (albeit in the evening - this is posted in the morning).

Both of my parents loved roses.  If memory serves, they met in the rose garden of Kensington Gardens (Hyde Park) London in 1961.  When we were children there were always roses in the garden... 'Golden Showers', 'Blue Moon', 'Uncle Walter', 'Peace' are among the names that come to mind.

I also love roses, even if they aren't my absolute favourite flowers, and this beautiful bloom evokes many precious memories.  Good call, CIBG, I hope you enjoy your rose bush and the memories it holds for you.