Thirty "squares" knitted and ready for blocking, pressing and sewing up.  I have a strong suspicion some of the sizes will be sufficiently different that some knitted "shims" will be necessary.

Once that's all done, there's just the small matter of knitting a border to finish the whole thing off.

Still on target for my personal deadline!

One of the tasks I set myself for this morning was to come up with a preaching plan for the autumn, probably the part of the year in which there is least opportunity for a clear run at anything, especially if you are daft enough to take your main holiday in October!

Yesterday our Worship Group had a very productive and creative meeting working out how to fit in the assorted special services that are coming up, and which I think have the potential to be exciting and a little bit innovative.

But I still have a huge void called mid-October to mid-November where, apart from Remembrance, I have no idea what we might explore together.  The Lectionary is not overly inspiring, and four weeks, with a one week gap, is not conducive to much by way of a series.

At various times - but not for quite a long time - I have invited suggestions for preaching themes or series, and I am wondering if maybe this might be such a time.  I have a few back up ideas for 'one-off' services, but it does feel good to listen to what the people in the 'pews' are interested in exploring and respond also to that.

Watch this space... and more will emerge, eventually!

This morning as I left home I detected that subtle shift in the light that heralds autumn... surely not, I thought, it's still July and we haven't really had summer yet.

Then I noticed the first fallen leaves on the pavememnts.  A closer look into the branches of those trees I passed revealed the first signs of changing colour... to yellow, to gold, to red, to brown...

Soon, soon, it will be be autumn once more...

Soon, soon the season will slide seamlessly, the leaves will fall, the light will change...

Soon, soon, the arirval of another autumn will be my personal herald of hope.

I settled down to listen to today's PAYG, discovering it was the Feast of St Martha.  A quick 'google' reminded me of a poem that I had been introduced to many moons ago called 'The Sons of Martha'.  This in turn led to me 'googling' my own blog as I recalled some of the many psots I have made about Martha with or without her sister and brother. 

I enjoyed rediscovering them, so here are the links...

From 2007, a sermon 'Three Portraits' and the poem 'The Sons of Martha'

From 2008, a reflection on my own Martha tendencies 'Sophia and Martha'

From 2010, a slightly flip observation about Mary and Jesus' feet, and a transcript of some reflections for Advent

From 2011, a reflection for the Feast of St Martha

My memory is rapidly descending to the annoying levels of Theresa of Avila, but at least by the wonder of the interweb and I can quickly retrace my own thoughts!  I have always had a fondness for Martha and felt she had an undeserved 'bad press', so it isn't such a surprise that I've written a lot about her.

Whether you are busy busy, or relaxed and reflective, I wish you the blessings of this day!

Yesterday morning as we explored the story of Philip from Acts 8, the creative option was to cover a gift box (of assorted shapes) with parts of old maps.  The photo shows my prototype, made with part of a VERY old map of London that has sat at the back of a cupboard for around 30 years, and was already at least 20 years old by then.

On the edge of the lid, though not visible in the photo, is North Middlesex Hospital, where I was born, and Wood Green where my parents lived briefly around that time.  Other areas of London significant to my story are not there - those parts of the map were SO shabby that I shose not to use them.

A little box into which I could place, if I chose, small items that are in some way meaningful for me.  I kind of treasure box or memory box perhaps.  Or a gift box, into which I could place some carefully chosen token for another person.

A bit of a tenuous link with the avenue of exploration, which was that nothing and no-one is beyond the scope of God's redemptive love.  No situation and no person is too distant, too depraved, too dreadful for God to bring hope and love.

Which sort of connects with our evening service reflections which I rather grandly subtitled "Faith, Hope and Love in Apophatic Perspectives".  The apophatic tradition, the theological 'via negativa' of saying what God is not, is often associated with the 'Dark Night of the Soul', though I chose to tweak this to 'Within Our Darkest Night' recognising that tragedy, illness, relationship breakdown, loss of a job or other personal circumstances can prove very dark times.

I spoke about what faith is not - not proof, not certainty, not guarantee - as well as what it might be

I spoke about what hope is not - not wishful thinking, not denial, not unrealistic - as well as what it might be

I spoke about what love is not - not selfish or boastful or proud (thank you St Paul), not (just) warm fuzzy, not always getting it right (Job's comforters got an honourable mention), not easy to define - as well as what it might be.

Overall the two services went well, and were each graciously received.

Tiring - I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow - but in a very good way.