I know that some of my readers are among those who sponsored me for this event, which I did in June.

The total (which includes GiftAid) is amazing and will make a huge difference to women and men diagnosed with breast cancer...

£5 pays for an information pack for someone newly diagnosed

£10 pays for one person to attend an awareness workshop

£23 pays for a call to a dedicated support line

This money could make a difference to as many as 430 people which is wonderful. (That's roughly the number diagnosed in the UK every three days)

So yes, humbled and grateful in many ways.

Yesterday morning, I was at church starting to set up when the other early arriver came in. She told me that she had just seen a pigeon, tangled in netting, fall from the roof of the church onto the steps outside.

We went out, and at the second attempt I was able to catch it. The poor creature was terrified, its heart beating so fast that I feared it might die. Gently, I stroked its feathers and tried to reassure it.

We found a pair of scissors and my colleague carefully snipped the strands of net. As it fell away the relief of the bird was palpable.

Carefully we carried it outside, I opened my hands and it soared skyward. As it did so, another pigeon, perhaps its mate, flew to join it, and the two alighted on the roof opposite.

"Thank you Lord." said my colleague. Thank you indeed.

A few seconds either way, and the falling pigeon would not have been spotted and the story would have had a different ending. I am glad that J saw the pigeon and that we helped rescue it. I flippantly said, "go free, Holy Spirit" and who knows... Maybe there is a parable there?

A lovely story, and the better for being true

Last night I stayed over with a minister friend in London. We chatted long and laughed and shared all manner of stuff. And it was good. And I think in the sharing each of us made new connections or discovered new truth.

Today on my train ride home I read a book my friend recommended and started to prepare thoughts for a sermon.

Sometimes it is only in sharing the mundane and ordinary that the spiritual or divine breaks through.

Last morning in Massy was spent at the Baptist Church meeting the Pastor. His English and my French were roughly of equal standard, so our Link Missionary did a fair bit of translation.

At the end of the meeting we prayed with and for each other and for our churches. No miraculous comprehension but we each got the gist of what the others were praying   It was very beautiful and, for me, a foretaste of heaven.

Yesterday afternoon I visited the French Baptist headquarters, a delightful suite of rooms a climb of some seventy odd steps from ground level. Here I met lovely people who are colleagues of our link missionary and picked up a few leaflets to look at. To my surprise, I could understand at least 90% of what I was reading. But the cover of the magazine momentarily threw me... an edition devoted to fishing? Well, OK, kind of Biblical I guess, maybe a bit if fun in the titling? No, it was about sin... Same letters, same order, different accents.

Peach, fish or sin... it all depends on the accents.

Made me smile and made me think about the ability of the tiniest punctuation mark to radically change meaning or reception.

Plenty of English words that are way more confusing because we don't use accents in writing... Which also made me think.

Apologies for typos, doing this on my phone from a platform that's not entirely mobile friendly is a good challenge!