Mentioned to me today by my Pastoral Supervisor...

Prayer is like watching for

The kingfisher. All you can do is

Be there where he is like to appear, and

Wait.

Often nothing much happens;

There is space, silence and

Expectancy.

No visible signs, only the

Knowledge that he’s been there

And may come again.

Seeing or not seeing cease to matter,

You have been prepared.

But when you’ve almost stopped

Expecting it, a flash of brightness

Gives encouragement.

Prayer Is Like Watching For the Kingfisher – by Ann Lewin

Wandering into my kitchen, a looked out of the window and saw a wonderful city sunrise - gorgeous colours and stark sikhouettes of buildings and cranes.  Fleeting beauty as the light spreads, dispersing the night.

It is as near as makes no odds 24 hours since the train on which I sat enjoying the tranquility and getting my work done came to an abrupt stop just north of Oxenholme and the story of a life lost on the tracks began to unfold.

As I paused to enjoy the beauty of this new day, to delight in the moment and to give thanks for it, I was struck afresh by the wonder of life and creation.  Of late I have been pretty grumpy, which could be my age or my gender or any number of other things, but in those moments I remembered that actually I am a person charactersied by gratitude, more hopeful than hopeless, more positive than negative.  Need to deal with the grumps and negativity; need to savour the beauty of each new day.

I am now on a train back to Glasgow after the southbound service eventually terminated at Oxenholme 100 minutes later than it should have arrived. Tragically, someone has lost their life and a train driver has to live with traumatic memories.  For me it was merely mild inconvenience - a missed meeting and some reshceduling but overall nothing to cause me concern.

I grieve, if only fleetingly and superfically, the loss of life, trauma and devastation this morning has wrought for the people directly involved.

I am hugely grateful for mobile phones, wifi, coffee, tea, public toilets, and trains (and Oxford commas).

On the whole, people have been gracious, acknowledging the difference between their own inconvenience and the tragedy affecting people we will never meet.

Tonight I will cuddle my kitties a little more closely, and pause, for a moment, to lift heavenward at least two families for whom today is riven with pain and sorrow.

Kyrie eleison

Christe eleison

Kyrie eleison

Oh dear, my train is now stuck north of Oxenholme due to a "struck object".  Virgin have given us free tea and chocolate biscuits - a sure sign we aren't going anywhere any time soon.  Rail status update is more informative than the announcements... looks like maybe a couple more hours sat here.

For me, this is mere inconvenience... the wifi has become more wobbly, but I have my kindle, my colouring book and my MP3 player.  I have emailed the meeting secretary to alert him that I may not arrive.  Above all, I am safe, warm, and alive... if the last few years have taught me nothing else, it is that all time is a gift.  So I cannot be cross - it sounds as if for someone, somewhere today may well be shrouded in tragedy, but for me it is not; for some the delays may be catastrophe, for me they are not. 

Perspective is a wonderful thing.

PS amusingly, this wobbly blog platform seems more stable than social media!!

PPS very weary looking policeman just walked along the track...

At 3:30 a.m. the alarm went off, dragging me from slumber, even disturbing the kitties who looked aksance as if to say "but Mummy it's not breakfast time yet" - quite strange not to have them racing into the kitchen, tails up, purring like motorbikes whilst I stumble, bleary eyed, behind them.

At 5:00 the taxi arrived with ten seconds of me putting the phone down - I raced down three flights of stairs, out into unexpected drizzle, then leaped in.  In under five minutes I was at my destination.  Plenty of time to grab a skinny decaf Fairtrade latte before boarding my train.

An experiment today - on the grounds that the quiet coach is always packed, and that usually there are people wtih VERY LOUD VOICES who ignore the 'no phone calls' rule, I booked a seat in an ordinary carriage.  And so far it is totally, utterly blissfully silent... until the train manager starts an announcement anyway.

So I have now completed some work, played around on social media (it seems other people are up are silly o'clock too) because for once the on-train wifi is working.  And now I'm posting this.

There was a time, even relatively recently, when I would not have attempted such a long day, but today it just seems to make sense, my week is cram-packed with stuff and the early-late day with snooze time potential on at least one train is the least challenging option.  Funny to think that five years ago, had someone said I'd be doing this again, I'd have thought they were impossibily optimistic, but here I am.

Train now chugging out of Carlisle on its way south.  A busy day of charity trustee work ahead - but I am grateful to God that I am able to do so.

Time to check my emails, read the papers for the meeting then maybe snatch a quick snooze before the train fills up.