Holly, "what DO you mean, I'm sitting on your research notes? This block of paper is just the correct size for me to sit on... and I DID stop walking across the laptop keyboard..."
A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life - Page 512
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The Lighter Side
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R&R
No, not rest and relaxation, reading and research!
This morning I have begun analysing some of the qualitative information garnered as part of my research... the total number of respondents is copable (phew) and around half of them fit the 'brief' and/or have completed most or all questions. Just from the demographics and descriptions of conditions people have, there are enough follow-up questions/avenues for someone else to do some really useful work. Not really sure I will have the time to do justice to what I have gathered, but definitely at least one and possibly more, useful papers waiting to be written once I've played with all the data. It is hard to explain how happy this makes me - it is a sign that I have pretty much emerged from chemo-brain (still some memory and concentration issues, but much less) and that overall I am around 90% back to where I was BC. Just enjoying thinking and mulling and spotting links and patterns... things I used to take for granted and now cannot. That's good news. For me, anyway.
And reading novels. The Cleaner of Chartres by Sally Vickers was recommended by Jim Gordon and by someone at church who had followed Jim's suggestion. It is a gentle and easy read, feel good without mush, and enough of a plot to maintain interest... and no overly tidy ending. As Jim said in his post 'just read it'. I am currently two-thirds of the way through Born Under a Million Shadows by Andrea Busfield a book that popped up in my Amazon recommendations because of other purchases. It is a, thus far, gentle story of life in contemporary Afghanistan from the perspective of a muslim boy whose mother keeps house for a collective of westerners. Thoughtful, and easy to read, like the better known works in this genre it gives a glimspe into another 'worldview' and so opens the way to reflecting on our own. Next up will be Kate Atkinson's Life After Life, which sounds intriguing and explores questions that I think a lot of us sometimes ask! Of course, having the concentration to sit and read is no longer a given, so I am delighting in the opportunity my sabbatical gives me to indulge my love of fiction AND to strengthen my concentration 'mucsles'.
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Research...
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"The Eyes of the World" - Really?
BBC news website tells us that the 'eyes of the world' are on the royal birth. Poor Duke and Duchess of Cambridge - a good job they will be far too preoccupied with the whole birth business to be aware of that. But, really? The eyes of the world? Somehow I think not. Western liberal democracy television news programmes, tweeters and bloggers (royalist and republican) maybe, but no, not the eyes of the world; most of the world has far more urgent and acute things to think about.
A quick bit of web searching suggests that in the UK today there will be on average "one born every minute" (about 2000) and that, sadly, on average on of those won't survive birth. Globally there will be around 370,000 babies born (can't find a neat match to a UK city but a bit bigger than Nottingham). And, if the click campaign of 2006 is still valid, around 28,800 children (one every three seconds) will die needlessly in poverty today. It seems to me that the eyes of the world, if the press is correct, are actually averted from things that aren't quite so nice, and shiny and romantic, in favour of some fairytale.
I genuinely hope that the Duchess of Cambridge is safely delivered of a healthy child, and that parenthood proves pleasurable and rewarding to this young couple. But my eyes are not glued to the goggle box waiting impatiently for the news.
You, God, slipped into our world without a media circus
The eyes of the Roman world were certainly not on a backstreet in Bethlehem
As a peasant woman brough forth her firstborn and laid him in a foodtrough for safety.
You, God, have your eyes on the squalor of poverty and the danger of the non-western world
You come close to the young mother whose birth pangs cannot be relieved with drugs
And whose haemorrhaging has only one, inevitable and disastrous outcome
You, God, have your eyes on the tiny scraps of humanity born in poverty
You come close to the child who attempts to suckle an empty breast
Whose life-breath is fleeting and failing, life snuffed out almost before it begins
You, God, have your eyes on the tenacious mother and determined baby
Refusing to be another statistic, defying the odds and suceeding to live
Who are bearers of hope and tragedy in equal measure, in a world we never see
You, God, have your eyes on every birthing stool and birthing pool,
Every maternity unit, every home, every refuge and transit camp
Every mother, every infant, every midwife, doctor and birthing partner
And You, God, have your eyes on the young couple in London
Anxious and excited, who know, deep within that, for all the technology money can buy,
Life is a fragile and beautiful gift, and upon your grace (named as such ot not) they depend
God who was born Prince of Peace
God who was born peasant of Bethlehem
God who was born refugee (even asylum seeeker)
God who was born into human life
It is your eyes that watch over every labouring mother
Every unborn child;
And it is to your safe keeping we offer them all
Amen
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Sunday Working
So, after yesterday's blog-frenzy (four posts is a lot, even by my standards!) it will all slow down again for a few days.
Today I am planning to catch up some admin type stuff, some sabbatical related, some domestic, and then do some more mulling over the two visits I've done whilst baking cakes to take to the friends I am visiting this weekend.
A weekend visit to friends is something of a luxury in my line of work, and indeed that of anyone who has week-by-week commitments in a church... musicians, Sunday School leaders, church secretaries, people who operate the sound desk or projector, and so-on. I have a feeling that there is a risk that ministers grow so accustomed to working Sundays that we don't always appreciate that, but for these volunteers, our Sunday's would be very different. So, as I head off for the kind of weekend that many 'in the pew' can take for granted, I spare a thought, and a prayer, for those whose commitment to the life of their congregation can make such luxuries a near-impossible dream, hoping that I won't forget once I am back in harness!
Thank you, God,
For Church Secretaries, collating the 'notices' or 'intimations' week by week
Making sure dates and times and places are announced
Pastoral news shared
And the visiting preacher cared for
Thank you, God,
For organists and pianists, guitarists and saxophonists,
For vocalists and SATB choirs,
And those who press 'play' on the 'Wesley' or CD player
Ensuring there is music in worship
Thank you, God,
For Sunday School leaders, preparing sessions
Hunting high and low for this video or that craft item
Sharing news and stories
With 'classes' small or large
Thank you, God
For the ones who put out the chairs (and put them away)
Who bakes cakes and pour tea,
Who hand out books or leaflets
Who welcome friend and stranger
Thank you, God
For hymn number board fillers
And PowerPoint preparers
For PA woofers and tweeters (whatever they may be!)
For door unlockers and alarm switcher-offers
Thank you, God
For flower arrangers (and distributors)
Water jug fillers
Toilet roll replenishers
Offertory counters and night safe deliverers
Thank you, God,
For those who, Sunday by Sunday,
Turn out, rain or shine,
To make worship work
By working on a Sunday