The plan was pretty simple, so I thought... do the 'Mum stuff' by day and the 'church stuff' in the evening.  I had under-estimated quite how much 'mum stuff' there was to do and how tired I'd be by the time I'd done it each day.  So it will be sermon-writing on the train home tomorrow - I have about five hours on my cheaper-than-standard-class first class journey, so can work whilst that nice Mr Branson plies me with tea and snacks!

One of today's little departures from plan was a bus ride out to where I used to live so that I could visit my Dad's grave.  The bus route has changed dramatically since I last went that way, but it was great - a circular route round the whole village passing many places from my childhood years before dropping me at 'my' old bus-stop to walk up the cemetry.  Very precious.

The poppy picture was some rough ground near where the (in my parlance 'new' (1977)) bus station used to be.  I love how it defies humanly created boundaries and reaches through the gaps offering its fleeting beauty to those beyond.  Somehow it spoke to me of hope and newness and oldness and preciously bittersweet moments.

The last few days have been very productive, even if I am now tired and tetchy.  Not quite according to my plans, but perhaps the better for it. An early start tomorrow, and a fond farewell to this place where so many of my formative years were spent.

As I stepped onto the north-bound train to bring me back up from Milton Keynes to Northampton, at the end of a slightly convoluted train journey, it struck me, surprisingly forcefully that this might be the last time I ever do this... next time I head this way it will probably be to Wellingborough... I may have arrived at the shiny new Northampton railway station for the last time.

I've always known that this day would come, that one time would be the last time because there would no longer be a reason to come back.  But it is very strange to realise that this might be it, and that I had made no plans for farewell visits to anything or anyone.

It's not the case that I can never return, it's just unlikely, once the practicalities are sorted out that I will do so.

And it's very weird... bittersweet... this place is no longer home, nor has it been for decades, and yet it is precious... so many memories... I wasn't expecting to feel the sadness I experienced as I stepped from the train...

Lots of practical stuff to get done, but I hope, too I can find/make the time to say my farewells to places that once I knew well, and capture some last memories.

I've always claimed to have little or no place attachment - and I think that's still true, it's just that, of the many places I love, this the first where my primary reasons to return are ending.

This morning I am excited at the prospect of leading worship in a hotel conference room, into which a few folk went yesterday evening so that all is ready (bar projection stuff which is my responsibility) for when we arrive.

Loads of careful planning, preparing, thinking and praying has gone into this.  People with skills in event and programme production, audio, music etc. have all worked hard to ensure that every 'i' is dotted and every 't' crossed.  Not one jot or tittle has been missed!  I am truly grateful to these folk whose work makes all this possible.

For my part, I have thought and re-thought what I will say, have adjusted length and refined content to fit around those things over which I (rightly) have no control.  I have tried to step into the shoes of the person who might be anxious about the whole endeavour, and to do everything I can to help make it a positive experience.

I am excited about the experiment.  I am totally relaxed about the experiment.  Yet I know fine well that with just a few minutes to go the nerves will kick in as they always do - sometimes the weight of responsibility of preaching fleetingly becomes almost unbearable, until I stand up, speak the first words and all is well...

If you happen to be a Gatherer reading this before you leave home this morning, my prayers are with you.  If you happen to be someone else reading this before 11 a.m. today, maybe spares us a quick prayer or thought.  If you are reading it any other time, look out for reports back!

Yesterday afternoon I was the "speaker" at a small friendship group we run at church.  I chose to centre on the hymn to love in 1 Corinthians, with the reminder that we also understand that "God is Love".  When it came to the prayers, I worked my way through the attributes of love, substituting the word "God".  It's not original by any means, but it certainly made me think...

God is patient;
God is is kind;
God is not envious
God is not boastful
God is not arrogant
God is not rude.
God does not insist on Gods own way;
God is not irritable
God is not resentful;
God does not rejoice in wrongdoing,
God rejoices in the truth. 
God bears all things,
God believes all things,
God hopes all things,
God endures all things.

God never ends...

Some profound and challenging ideas there... especially the one that seems to express 'free will' (God does not insist on God's own way).

I wonder if any of them speak to you?

Last night I organised a repayment to DWP of an overpayment on my Mum's benefits whilst she was in hospital; it was remarkably easy and hassle free, and their demands seemed totally reasonable.

This morning I spoke to the care home to check some details on the paperwork, and to ensure that any necessary financial tweaks are in place.  Again it could not have been easier, or the person I spoke to more pleasant.

Each of these makes me feel very grateful, as we, as a family, enter what for us is a whole new world where we don't know the rules or expectations, where, if not scary, everything is unfamiliar and a bit bewildering.

It suits my admin/science brain to sort all paperwork and to co-ordinate the practical matters.  At the same time it is a huge learning curve and makes me very grateful that I am young enough and clear enough of mind/thought to process information and research options.

It is also time-consuming and energy-demanding... I am so fortunate/blessed to have a life that allows me to make calls during office hours, to work away for a few days when needed, and so on.  And I am fortunate/blessed to have good enough health to cope with the physical demands (around three thousand miles travelled in the last month, mostly overnight!).

It serves as a strong reminder that so many other people live like this all the time - travelling, working away, supporting elderly parents at huge distances... It's a whole new world, and at the moment quite an intense one.

Lots to ponder, and hopefully learning things that will make me a better pastor in future... until now I never understood what this world was really like.