I arrived at church to find a parcel waiting for me - unexpected - so I wondered what it could be.

It turned out to be a tee-shirt sent from the Bahamas by someone (and her son) who was a much-loved part of our church whilst she was studying here.  It made me laugh as the back looks like this:

Actually my teeshirt is white but otherwise is very similar.

On the front it says, "whom God keeps is well kept" I like that.

I also have a beautiful black cotton top with pink and blue symbols painted on it, which is a gift from one of our Nigerians.

I think etiquette dictates that each of these tops is worn to lead worship at some point over the summer!

Nothing serious to say today and a busy day in prospect, so just to note the latest exciting adventures of the redesigned post-treatment girl I now am.

Six full months since my hair began to grow it is now about an inch or so long all over (except at the nape of my neck where it is much shorter having taken longer to return).  With hot flushes every hour or so - and sometimes as many as three an hour - it regularly gets drenched in sweat and I end up running my hands through it to 'dry' it a bit.  I noticed over the weekend that this left it sticking up in a rather fetching (and expensive looking!) style so for the moment am going with the flow and wearing it sticking up!  Works OK unitl it gets squished by my sunhat...

Between the long-term effects of chemotherapy, which have left my skin more photosensitive, and axillary surgery, which leaves me at risk of lymophedema, I now have to take extra good care of my 'affected arm' and of course being a symmetrical kind of a girl that means the 'unaffected arm' too!  So my morning routine now includes slavering on the E45 (moisturise, moisturise, moisturise*, as my plastic surgeon put it; some people can use normal moisturiser but my skin was already pretty sensitive) and then topping that with Factor 50 sunscreen (by Simple or a baby one).  Of course now it's the midge/gnat season I then need to spray some insect repellent or Avon Skin So Soft over that to try to keep the biting critters at bay.

Kind of ironic that the wash 'n' go tomboy now is forced to spend ages slavering on products!!

* The moisturise, moisturise, moisturise was primarily to keep my 'beautiful' scars 'beautiful' and they are.  Kind of amusing that the best one of the three isn't hers though.

This is something that has kept popping into my mind over the last ten months, specifically in the light of my own direct experience and some of the experiences of folk I'm in contact with.  Hospital chaplaincy varies enormously across the NHS but seems, predominantly, to be concerned with in-patient support and/or dire emergencies (very premature neonates and major accidents).  There seems to be little, or no, provision for people whose treatment is mainly, or exclusively, done via out-patient clinics and/or day-case units.

So I am wondering, based on the fact that I find total strangers approach me when I happen to be in a hopsital wearing a clerical collar, and the fact that there were moments when I'd have valued a chaplain to pray with me as I waited for biopsy results etc., if anyone knows of any out-patient chaplaincy that occurs and/or if anyone else thinks it'd be a good idea. 

Suffice to say, I am currently pondering the possibility of exploring some voluntary chaplaincy in this kind of role, but need to do a lot of sounding out first - with church (who don't yet know I'm thinking about it) with hospitals and with chaplaincies in said hospitals.  So I thought I'd start with you, gentle readers, as you are the 'end user' kind of people!

Yesterday as part of our all age service I invited the congregation to share their best excuses for not going to a party (or event/function) that they didn't want to attend.  Although I wrote them on the flip chart at the time (and they may well be on the audio recording of the service) I can't recall them all.  But here are a few...

• I'm washing my hair
• I'm on call (one of our medics)
• I've just remembered a funeral (ministerial equivalent of the above)
• My car broke down
• My aunt just arrived
• I've nothing to wear

We had a laugh and it was a good way in to the parable we were looking at about the 'man who gave a party and no-one came'

Earlier in the service I invited people to say who they would like to invite to a party, no-one was off limits.  Some of the replies were:

• Bob Geldof
• Take That (shows our age!)
• Nelson Mandela
• Hilary Clinton
• Petra Kvitova
• Family
• Friends
• Neighbours

We then heard a parable and were invited to amend the list to add people Jesus would invite.  Some of the replies were:

• Homeless people
• Asylum seekers
• People with drink and drug dependencies
• People with HIV/AIDs
• Sadam Hussein (that caused a few intakes of breath!)

I think we had a pretty good time together, culminating in sharing communion imagined as a 'party' for Passover.

Two questions were left with people to ponder...

Based on the Luke banquet parable, suppose you gave a party and no-one came, what would you do?  What does this say about church life?

Based on the Matthew wise and foolish girls, on whom do we slam the door because we judge them 'not ready'?  What does this say about church life?

I had fun anyway.  Next week it is stories (or at least one liners) about treasure.

As some people know, my mother was brought up in Glasgow during and after WWII.  This afternoon I was scanning another heap of photos including this one:

I am not entirely sure where it was taken.  I do, however, know that my mother once lived here:

I can be sure about this based on this photo of my aunt holding a cat we think was called Timothy: