(Photo courtesy KF)

This is my flower arrangement from last night.  The thing that prompted me to do it was the statement from the Muslim-Christian Forum I linked yesterday.

I struggle a lot with the whole national identity thing - I tend to self-define, if I must, as British.  Living for over three years in Scotland I have come to understand how often ''England" and "English" are used when "Britain" and "British" are intended.  Whilst I don't think England can be blamed for the linguistic choices of the USA, Australasia or even Europe, it is rightly annoying, and sometimes antagonistic, to the other three parts of the UK to be defined as what they aren't; especially when these are often people with a far stronger sense of nationality.

To be proud of one's national (or regional) identity, and to enjoy its unique traditions, myths, culture and cuisine is good; to define 'us' over against 'them' is not.  England is probably unique in the UK in that its lack of botheredness with its national identity and symbols (saint, flag etc) has allowed dangerous extremists to appropriate them.  Being the biggest by population part of the UK has maybe led to a kind of complacency that is now reaping an ugly harvest.  Because of this, I applaud the statement put out yesterday, though do understand that for some Scots, Welsh and Northern Irish people it may read far less positively.

All of which is a very long way from flowers - or is it?  There is something about being a minority that stirs national identity (why else do immigrants and expats gather in close proximity?).  I actually feel more English now I live in Scotland - which is a theological nightmare as I consider allegiance to Christ must override any geographical or socio-politcal identity.  Perhaps then, in a way my flower arrangement holds this tension...?

Roses - associated with England.  Red for love (and the English rose), white for purity, pink for grace, yellow for friendship, red & white together for unity (not a party political statement, honest!).

Heather - generously donated by someone who'd brought it along (I had failed to find heather, bluebells or thistles!) associated with Scotland.  Apparently as well as 'luck', white heather symbolises protection.

So, roses and heather, entwined with tartan paper 'ribbon' (I failed miserably to find any tartan ribbon on sale near the church; perversely could think of oodles of places in England I could have got it!).  Not just any old tartan though; this was the Baptist Union of Scotland tartan (did you know they had one?) printed from an online image!!  It is in covenant with the BUS that we are united.

And a little red tartan animal - a wee dug?  a wee coo?  or a little lamb?  No idea!  It was the one tartan thing I found on sale, so I bought it.

Your people will be my people, and your God my God... it cuts both ways, as I embrace the people and culture of the place in which God calls me to serve, they too embrace me and what I carry with me of mine.

I don't think flower arranging will ever become my forte, but it was a fun evening and I enjoyed researching the symbolism to weave in to my attempt.

A fun evening for the few who came along as we endeavoured to create flower arrangements with a theme of 'my favourite Bible story'.  Well mine wasn't my favourite, but it seemed appropriate: I took the line from Ruth "your people will be my people, and your God my God" combining assorted roses, some bits of tartan, a sprig of heather and a 'wee tartan scottie dug' or was it 'wee tartan coo'?  Anyway, here is one of the photos taken of our endeavours...

(c) Ken Fisher

Tomorrow is St George's Day (and, for that matter Shakespeare's birthday).  In recent times I have made mention of St David's Day and St Patrick's Day on this blog, but felt very uneasy at mentioning St George's Day.  Partly because I am an English person living in Scotland, and it could be seen as inflammatory, but more because like most English people I am embarrasses, ashamed at the way he, and more significantly the St George flag, has been appropriated by extremist organisations, some of whom have the audacity to call themselves Christian.  So I was thrilled to see this to which BUGB are a signatory, from the Christian-Muslim forum.  And how about this for a stunning photo...  (Oh, and I'm taking it as sign of divine approval for my flower arrangment theme tonight, if any church folk are reading!!)

Life in all its fullness - joy and sorrow, ups and downs, concern and celebration... this week, like any other has been a blend of those things.  I suppose, though, we only notice it when the spread of 'high' and 'low' is especially broad.  This week has had several especially wonderful high points, and one significant tragic low point, and I suppose that's why I am reminded what fullness of life really means.

Rejoice with those who rejoice

Weep with those who weep

And in the in-betweens walk alongside one another in observant companionship

Rejoicing with those celebrating new life

Delighting in aspects of church life

Praying for L and family, for peace and release.

... LORD, in your mercy, hear my prayer.

I have always been, and continue to be, a 'head' person rather than a 'heart' person.  I like life orderly and planned - even if it doesn't always work out that way.  Despite that, since being confronted with my own mortality a couple of years back (OK more than 2.5 now) I have allowed myself to be more spontaneous, to do things on a whim, just because they are fun or I want to do them.  I've always been partial to eating ice-cream cones on winter's days or supping hot chocolate with all the trimmings mid-summer, and I guess it is that side of myself I have allowed more freedom.

So last night spontaneity won over sense - it was a 'school night', sense said I should be tucked up in bed and asleep not standing in the cold cheering a pop star I'm not even that bothered about (sorry Mr B).  But spontaneity said this was a one-off, that it would gladden my heart, that 'what the heck, I can get an extra early night tomorrow'.  Of course that means sense has to take control today and make sure I do do that!

Two and a half years down the track I am settled back into pretty much the routine I had before all this began.  That's good, it means I am well, healthy and happy.  But it's also potentially bad, it means I am in danger of forgetting what I've learned, of allowing sense (except where it conflicts with workaholism) to rule everything.  It ought not to take such brutal experiences to make people learn to 'seize the day' in ways that energising, but often it does.

Compared with my life "BC" (before cancer) I am far more likely to go with my desires rather than always choosing the sensible option.  Red duffle coats, cake for breakfast (sometimes), late nights to cheer a pink Rolls Royce... these are among the good gifts, the silver linings, my experience has wrought.

I still have my workaholic, perfectionist, practical and even pragmatic tendencies, but I think that moments like last night are a valuable counterpoint to that.