Twelve years ago, I was a Newly Acredited Minsiter (NAM) finding her feet in her first full time pastorate, convinced of God's calling but not having a clue what it actually meant, as I sat in my office in my quaint manse in the place I came to refer to as Dibley.

Eleven years ago, I was preparing a service to be delivered in a borrowed room (I think the local Methodist church but the memory has long since faded) on a Sunday afternoon following the sudden closure of the chapel where this congregation had worshipped since the mid 1870s. 

Yesterday I recalled the events of the gas inspection that triggered the immediate need to close the premises, the grace of the inspector who 'bent' the rules to allow a funeral to go ahead (and the comedic "it shouldn't happen to a vicar" nature of that funeral) and the generosity of the Anglican church who hosted our Christmas 2004 services at zero notice.  In January 2005 I preached a sermon on 'adventuring with God' based on the life of Moses.  It was a half decent sermon, so I discovered when I dug it out from the archives of my service collection!

At the start of 2016, things are looking hopeful, if decidedly challenging, for the Gatherers, as long awaited and tenantiously pursued possibiltities might become reality.  And then real life gets in the way, as it it is wont to do.  Before Christmas, I had decided to revist the theme of 'adventuring with God' and yesterday wrote a sermon based quite heavily on what I said back in 2005.  What I wrote is, I think, fine.  But it doesn't feel quite right.

Not just because this is a different time and a different place, but because it felt it lacked a certain vitality.  The content is there, but it needs to be written again, and I think I know how to do that.

If we had the time, what I'd love to do would to sit sit down and share stories... the adventures we have been part of in which, if only retrospectiviely, we identify God's participation.

As the next stage in our journey continues, as January 2016 begins to unfold, as hopes morph into reality, the one thing that is certain is that God is present in it all, and there are always connections to be found or made.

Perhaps I should end this post with the story of the gracious gas inspector...

It was Friday 17th December 2004, and I had a funeral around lunchtime.  Electricians were installing emergency lighting and much needed earthing to our premises, and a gas inspector was systematically working his way through the building.  An illegal capping off here, a dodgy connection there, a dangerous installation somewhere else... it wasn't looking good.  And then the pressure drop from meter to final exit point that suggested leak or leaks and the the need to close the premises now, this minute.

I stood there listening, as he told me the news.  "You have a funeral later on don't you?" he asked.  I nodded.  I can't recall his exact words but they ran roughly thus, "I will go back to the office and re-check my calculations, which I have to report to my boss.  It won't change anything, and I will be in trouble no doubt.  On Monday I will call you with the results."

It wasn't a foolish call - the place was no more likely to blow up than before his inspection, but he could not do otherwsie than condemn the gas system which meant closing the building.

Afternoon came and the funeral took place... the cortege arriving late becuase the family had needed to round up and kennel their dogs when the FD arrived to collect them.  The coffin would not go through the door from the porch and had to be man-handled along the side of the building, in the back door, up two lots of steps, past the electricians (who showed incredible respect, stopping work and bowing their heads) before we got it into the church.  The family had asked for Procul Harem's 'Whiter Shade of Pale" to be played... we'd heard it seven times through by the time we began the service, a further five at the end... I used to like it, but now...  A burial on a cold December afternoon, but at least it was dry.

On the Sunday morning, after an emergency Deacon's meeting we told the church, before proceeding with the nativity, and then the evening carol service (carols without candlelight).  On Monday the gas sytem was condemed and the building closed, to re-open only once, six months later, after the gas supply had been isolated at the mains, and then for a 'farewell service'.

The grace of the gas-man.  The generosity of the Anglicans.  The hospitality of the Methodists.  The welcome of the primary school... there were/are all signs of God's sharing in an adventure we'd never have chosen, but which became part of a bigger, more wonderful story.

Over the years I've done a lot of individual fundraising for charities - walking across England, up Wales, around Scotland, and so on.  This year I'm taking a new challenge and a different - organising a team entry into the Glasgow by Night Pink Ribbon Walk in June.

Many challenges here, not only about fitness, but about team-building and team spirit.  It's easy to go it alone, to zoom round a course at high speed... or slog up a mountain at snail's pace.  A bigger challenge to hold together a team of people of varied fitness and motivation levels.  And I am relishing this.  It means walking the shorter ten mile course rather than aiming for the full twenty; it means walking at the pace of others... it also means conversation, laughter and companionship in the wee small hours.  It should be fun and I look forward to it.

So, for the next six months or so, a 'sponsor me' widget will appear on this blog.  Or you can text us a quid by texting GABB96 to 70070.

And of course this is a good metaphor for church life... gives me much pause for thought on how I participate in my own church...

By the wonders of advance posting, Sophie Cat, Sasha Cat, and Catriona, sometimes known as (Rev)Cat, and who is clad in Santa Cat jumper, would like to wish all readers of this blog as healthy, happy, hopeful New year.

None of us knows what the future holds, but as the old hymn says "we know who holds the future" not in some kind of predestined way, but in the sense that God is alongside us in whatever transpires... if God does indeed know the 'end' from the 'beginning' it is in so far as 'in the end all will be well' (and in the words of the First Exotic Marigold Hotel, "if it's not OK, it's not the end").  This isn't the time/place for heavy theology anyway!

As I type I know that some readers will enter 2016 facing huge personal challenges, and other significant communal or corporate challenges.  I know that there will countless people in the north of England affected by flooding and even more countless others in Calais, Eastern Europe and Syria fleeing for their lives.  I also know that lighting candles is better than cursing the darkness... and that photos of cats and their humans, however cheesy or naff, can bring a smile where one is needed.

Back soon with more usual stuff.  Take care and God bless.

Boxing Day - the first day of my post-Christmas 'down time'.  Catching up on the last few emails, posting a few things on social media and something here, then it will be time to switch off the laptop and enjoy some time simply to be.

One lovely task this morning was sending a quick email thanking some of our Gatherers for all they had done in the Advent and Christmas season (OK technically it's still Christmas until either 6th Jan or 2nd Feb but you know what I mean).  As I did so, I was struck that, without consciously setting out to do so, we had pretty much covered all the clauses in the parable of the Sheep and Goats (Matt 25) that lies at the heart of my understanding of ministry.

I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink

Christmas lunch served to over fifty people including homeless men, lonely widows, people with metal health and addiction concerns.  Full bellies and warm hearts... a lovely way to spend the day.

I was a stranger and you welcomed me

We had so many visitors over the season, and yesterday morning a family from Somerset, the biannual visit from a family in London, returning friends from Orkney, who swelled our numbers and brought joy and a bigger perspective to our worship.

I was naked and you gave me clothing

We have supported assorted charitable appeals, locally, nationally and globally.  Clothes formed part of our giving to the Salvation Army appeal; many gave clothes to appeals for refugees; we contributed in lieu of Christmas Cards and via our Advent reflection collection to the Christain Aid appeal

I was sick and you took care of me

Our congregation includes a number of medical professionals, and also people who care for family members.  As well as that we chose to give the retiring collection from our carol service to a local cancer charity which will, we know, use some of it to bring precious moments to very sick people

I was in prison and you visited me

One of our folk is a prison visitor, and I'm sure was very active in recent weeks.  But prisons are not always physical detention centres, even one's home can become a prison when age, infirmity or illness take their toll.  Care homes and private homes were visited, communion shared, carols sung, gifts given

No, we are not a special church, and no we don't do any of this that we may boast, and no I'm not sharing this out of smugness.  It was only as I began to reflect on all we had participated in that I realised we had unconsciously done it right!  Not perfect, not without the odd grumble or stumble, but we had done really well.

And the profound mystery is that in every penny donated to charity, in every plate of food served or glass of cola poured, in every hug exchanged, in every gift given, in every threshold crossed, we met Jesus in those we served.  And here, too, is another profound mystery, that we, too, were to them the face of Christ!

It has been a very busy time - and I am ready to chillax with no internet, no phones, no contact with church for a little over a week.  It has also been a blessed time, in which I have, despite myself, been reminded of what it's all about and why I can do nothing else!

May God bless all readers of this blog with love, laughter, hope and wholeness, now and in the as uncharted terrritory that is 2016.

Catriona x

With visitors from Somerset, London and Orkney, we had a lovely intimate morning service for about 30 folk.  Sat around tables with cups of tea/coffee and nibbles, we sang familiar carols, heard familiar readings, reflected on the wonder of it all and shared in a creative act of intercessory prayer - writing or drawing our petitions on strips of cloth which were used to line the manger (over the hay) ready for the baby.

Then, when we had cleared up, several us headed over the road to help deliver Christmas lunch to to around fifty folk, some homeless, some with mental health issues, some lonely or isolated, some with addictions, some who simply wanted to share in this community event.  Lots more carols, people dining on vast amounts of festive food, it was fabulous fun.

And now, after a very full and fulfilling day, I think it's time to get the jammies on and chillax!!