For a girl who doesn't do pink, doesn't do fluffy, dosen't really do bling, and for whom the pink fluffyiness of so much Pink Ribbon merchandising stuff is anathema, I was surprisingly touched to receive this little velvet pink ribbon badge in the post this morning.

The pink ribbon as a symbol for breast cancer awareness is now 25 years old, and the various charities are marking this anniversary - rightly, because the money they raise for support and research makes a huge difference.

The letter that came with my badge said:

"Please find enclosed a pin for you, in recognition of all that you do as a breast cancer care volunteer.  We are honoured to invite you to join us as we wear it in hope, in stength and in unity.'

As a peer support volunteer, I have the privilege of speaking with women as they negotiate the terrors of diagnosis, the complexities of treatment and the challenges of life after cancer.  This week I spoke to a one who was debating whether or not to take Tamoxifen, another who had developed lymphoedema several years after treatment, and a third who is a longer term 'client' with whom I'm journeying through her treatment - all of this is a huge privilege, and helps me to make sense of my own experience.

For the last couple of years, I've been a patient rep on a research group, able to have quite a lot of input to some work on supporting people affected by 'chemobrain'; I was even asked to chair a day conference for medical professionals, patients, carers and third sector organisations.

As well as actively completing the Ben Nevis challege and two Pink Ribbon walks myself, raising thousands of pounds along the way, I've also been a volunteer steward at the annual fashion Show, a marshall for a Pink Ribbon walk and made tea and washed up at a couple of Glasgow-wide fundraisers!!

In listing this, I realise it sounds like I'm blowing my own trumpet, which isn't the intent, rather I'm just trying to celebrate the diversity of opportunities I have enjoyed, the friends I've made, the fun I've had, and the privileges I've been granted.

So I will wear my pink, fluffy, blingy badge with pride, not because of what I've done, but because it's a great cause and deserves to flourish.

PS Don't you think that hope, strength and unity are brilliant values?!

This article by the nephew of American prosperity gospel and healing ministry advocate Benny Hinn is well worth reading - because he explains how he grew up and grew out of what he had been taught.  As I read it, I was reminded of the young women who left Westboro Baptist Church (here).  These stories are courageous, important and powerful, and serve as a valuable lesson to anyone entrusted with ministry.

By contrast, sometimes the sons/daughters of respected and famous preachers are themselves the cause of concern, as is the case here.

Preachers kids, like Mish Kids, have a challenging life, and charismatic parents/relatives can have influence beyond what they might realise. I guess these three examples illustrate just how that can work out - for good and for ill.

Both of the cats like me working at some, and Sasha especially loves getting to grips with all the technology.  Today she decided to carry out QA on an ink cartridge change, ensuring I'd put in the correct one, and then watched closely to make sure I had a complete print run with no accidental omissions, skewiff prints or duplicates.

Suffice to say, she's now looking at the screen proof reading this post!! 

Lots of my minister friends have been sharing this article on social media, and it's well worth a read.

In case anyone wonders, I am very settled where I am, love my church precisely because it is messy and imperfect and doing its best and sometimes getting it wrong.

By pure chance, on my own social media page, a 'memory' popped up from three years ago that said this:

"I love my church - unity in diversity, growing in grace, messing up sometimes, getting it right sometimes, sticking together whatever happens, and trying to be kind to one another (R, we took note of your sermon five years ago!)"

It took me a while to recall why I wrote that post - and when I did remember it felt the more precious because it related to the days following the referrendum on Scottish Independence, which I found incredibly painful and difficult to negotiate, knowing that whatever the outcome, half of my congregation would be happy/relieved and half disappointed/devastated.  The scars are well healed now, and woven into who I am, and how I seek to serve this congregation.  I am excited at the 'new things' that are springing up thanks to God's Spirit.

The nearest Sunday to our eighth 'birthday' will coincide with a 'special church meeting' which has a sense of 'rightness' about it, as we discern together God's next steps for us all.

Today I began the cull of books (apart from those in my study!) and packed up no less than four book-boxes (or four shelves worth) of books from my living room.

Why did I keep a book on how to make a nuclear reactor all this time?  Nostalgia I guess - at the time I bought these text books they represented a massive investment, eating up a lot of my student grant (remember those?), they continued to form a valuable resource for many years, especially the ones on management and economics! But now they are in a box and will go off to a charity shop who can decide whether to sell them or send them for pulping... my 'you can't just destroy books they are precious' gene is well supressed these days!!

One shelf of novels and one shelf of 'coffee table' books survived the cull.

Once all these have gone, I'll start on the children's books...!

It's all surprisingly cathartic.