'What?'  You ask.  Let me explain, or try to.

I have been a Girls' Brigade leader for a little over thirty years - scary in itself.  The GB leaders a generation 'above' me tended to sign off letters as 'yours in Brigade' and we all kind of knew what it meant.  At various times I have met people who are/were GB leaders and we instantly fell into deep and hilarious conversations about all things GB.  There is something about the intentionality of the organisation that runs quite deep.  My Guide friends report the same thing.  Indeed, to be fair, GB and Guide leaders are capable of similar unintentioned intentionality when they get together.

In a couple of hours I am due to pick up an online 'friend' at Glasgow airport and see her and her husband safely onto their train to Fort William where they are travelling ahead of the weekend's Ben Nevis climb.  Combine the ridiculous lack of a rail link from Glasgow airport into town, with Scotrail's crazy route, and they are slightly bewildered.  Easier by far that I collect them and dispatch them from the centre of the universe that is Hyndland station, possibly on the self same train that Scotrail told them to get from Glasgow Central via Dalmuir (the Fort William train goes from Queen Street....)!  She and I share some common experiences over the last couple of years, and so there is a similar unintended intentionality going on.  This morning, I had an email from another online 'friend' who is part of the same 'club no one wants to join' saying she wanted to travel up (from Cumbria!) to welcome us back off the mountain.  The same kind of instant connection arises as does with the GB/Guide leaders.

So.  Question.  Is this a 'girl' thing?  Or is it a shared experience thing?  It happens to an extent at Baptisty events, but never to the same intensity.  I have never shared real belly laughs with individual, unknown Baptists, and sometimes they really wind me up form the get-go.  What do others think?

Today's walk was exceedingly wet and windy... so, after reaching the top of the first hill, and munching some lunch, we turned back because to have continued would have been plain daft. Not exactly fun, but a useful final training walk ready for the weekend. As is the way of these things, just as we got back to the car, the cloud lifted and we finally saw the hills! None of which is the serendipity.

I travelled up by train and somewhere along the way the dolphin key-ring on my bootbag fell off. This was a shame, but I thought no more about it. As it happened I'd also had a take-away coffee and left the empty cup on the train. So, the day passed, and I got into a train home, and found myself back in the same seat on the same train (I knew this because the paper cup was still where I'd left it! So much for cleaning of trains) ... and there on floor was my key-ring! Serendipity? Seems like it to me.

Yesterday was one of those golden days that come along now and then.  It was - for me - an ordinary working day, yet it was just great from start to end.  Much of it was spent researching and choosing hymns for our upcoming harvest service which, because there was no real urgency, I could take at a leisurely pace and play around with the order more than I sometimes do.  I went home for my 'break' with a sense of accomplishment. 

After tea it was back to church for our Monday Funday quiz night.  There were 16 or 17 of us there and a great time was had by all.  I played the part of 'pointless assistant' (score keeper) and we were entertained by rounds on the history of our church, name that carol tune, name that hymn, Biblical arithmetic, whose pet?, who am I? pointless knowledge and - the piece de resistance - 'would I lie to you?'  Gales of laughter swept through the room as various folk demonstrated their ability to spin a good yarn (especially the one about the nativity set knitted from leftover yarn and the one about the ballet lessons with Sascha Popov...)

All in all, a grand day.

Today I am heading off to meet a friend to be 'dragged up and down some hills' in final preparation for Ben Nevis this weekend.  I really hope the weather improves between now and then, though having looked at the forecast, it is far better there than here.  The organisation of this adventure has been meticulous - with mountain guides and medics on hand to ensure the 'shepherd and the ninety-nine', as I have mischievously named the 100 walkers, get up and down safely.  No adventure is risk free, and sadly in recent weeks someone fell to their death from Ben Nevis, but if nothing else the last couple of years have taught me to carpe diem - seize the day.  I have friends who have successfully and safely climbed Ben Nevis on a whim and I like to think I am a sufficiently experienced hill-walker not to take undue risks (plus anyone who knows my irrational fear of edges will know I am VERY cautious at times).

So, a soggy and blustery day in prospect - but hopefully good fun too.

When I was a ministerial student we were introduced to the Gospel in Solentiname - a Latin American peasant reading of scripture.  Today as I was playing 'pick the hymns' for our harvest service (in two weeks time) I found one or two items of Nicaraguan origin, one from the 'Misa Popular Nicaraguenese'.  When I Googled that, I found something else, La Misa Campesina - the Peasant Mass, also from Nicaragua and released as a recording in 1979.

Here is the Credo, as reproduced on that fount of all dodgy references, Wikipedia:

I believe in you, comrade,

Christ man, Christ worker,

victor over death.

With your great sacrifice

you made new people

for liberation.

You are risen

in every arm outstretched

to defend the people

against the exploitation of rulers;

you are alive and present in the hut,

in the factory, in the school.

I believe in your ceaseless struggle,

I believe in your resurrection

And here is the Gloria.  It is very much of its time, but still worth a listen. 

Today I came across a free online Myers Briggs type-indicator (hyphenation mine as otherwise it's ambiguous!) test.  It confirmed that despite all the last few years have sent my way, and despite the fact that I am now more of the sieze-the-day mentality than I used to be, I am still an ISTJ.

Way back, when I was at college, a vicar did 'formal' MBTI tets for us and announced quite pointedly words to the effect that 'ISTJs are not ideally suited to be ministers'.  Pah!  Actually my ISTJ-ness has been well employed this past almost a decade, so I reckon God probably makes some pretty good calls.

You can find it here

Other personality tests are available and none should be taken too seriously!