Apologies to those discomfited by yesertday's lack of a post - the blog platform was down.  This happens now and then with all blog platforms; I guess it is to do with maintenance.  Anyway, it's back today and so am I.

Lots of different owls in this forest.

Firstly the gentle, wise observation owl who spent my night in High Dependency watching over me and checking my obs.  Half-hourly and then hourly obs, coupled with incredibly high winds in Glasgow meant sleep was fitful and evasive.  If I wasn't woken by the automatic inflation of the blood pressure cuff then I was probably awake anyway.  In gentle but firm tones she urged me to 'get some sleep' and the time I was dozing when she came in did minimal obs and tiptoed away just as I began to stir.  This young nurse is doing a Masters in nursing and was keen to research patient experience for her dissertation - something the ethics committee were sniffy about.  A wise owl who wants to learn to be even wiser; a true blessing to the NHS.

The the screech owls!  I soon discovered each nursing team has its own characteristics an done night team was very noisy.  Gales of laughter rang along the corridor from the nursing station, penetrating the closed door of 'room' in which up to four of us tried to sleep.  Across the way an elderly woman with advanced dementia called for her parents, the nurse, her teacher, her friends; I was glad that most of the time I had room mates who would simply observe the sadness of this situation and who had a 'but for the grace of God' attitude to her.  And the lighter moments of the sleep talkers and snorers who has the rest of us rocking with silent laughter.

The forest never sleeps.  A roommate arrived at 4 a.m., someone needed pain relief in the early hours, someone pressed her buzzer what seemed like every hour... and the night creatures busily work.

He who keepeth Israel neither slumbers not sleeps...  Thank you God for this truth.

God to who night and day are alike, who created dark and light and declared each to be good, bless the people whose lives are nocturnal as they quietly fulfill the needs of those who wake by day.

Two salt of the earth, East Glasgow mums (one of five, one of three) with whom I spent the longest single period of time in the forest and who were such a delight to be with.  Neither had had the educational opportunities I've enjoyed, and each was hard working, loving and brim full of common sense.  Each had a bit of a rough time whilst in hospital and I spent a bit of time offering them support.

We had some really interesting conversations - one of them asked me how I decided to be a minister and was totally open to my 'Damascus road' experience sense of call in a way that many Christians have not been; indeed she seemed delighted by such a possibility.  The other asked me what I thought happened to people who had euthanasia, and if they went to hell.  Not only was I able to share my thoughts - about a God of love, that no human has the right to pronounce on the eternal fate of others, that I would not want euthanasia myself - but we opened up wider topics of suicide and survivor guilt.  The final morning we had a three way conversation on a topic that was directly affecting one of the families in which practical common sense and non-judgemental minister views were equally valued.

It was a genuine privilege to meet these two 'sparrows,' the "common or garden" birds which seem plentiful and perhaps, too easily, as lesser than those with university degrees.  Instinctively they understood what ministerial live involved - and unwittingly they enriched my hospital stay immensely.  Each gave me a hug before she left, our paths diverging, but the moments we shared were precious.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  Yet not one falls to the ground but your Father knows it.

Consider the birds of the field... not even Solomon in all his splendour was dressed like one of these.

Thank you, God, for sparrows and the delight they bring if we only have eyes to see.  Please bless these two East Glasgow sparrows as she flies into her future.

A kangaroo might not be the kind of animal you'd expect to meet in a forest, but I want to tell you about the one I met in my forest.

At the age of 14 she had been walking on a pavement when she was hit by a car driven by a fifteen year old.  She suffered horrendous injuries and wound up in hospital for fifteen months.  Despite being told she'd never walk again she left hospital on two feet.  At the age of nineteen she was a rear passenger in a car involved in a car crash and sustained further serious injuries.  Now in her early thirties, she was undergoing surgery to improve her injured leg, and this was something like operation number 55.

The surgery she'd had meant she couldn't put her foot to the ground so she hopped around the ward with her arms held out for balance making her look like a kangaroo - hence the metaphor.

She was (is) a remarkable and inspiring young woman devoid of bitterness or self-pity, with no anger towards the driver(s) whose actions had caused her injuries and unending, fulsome praise for the NHS.  As is the way of remarkable people, she seemed unaware of how inspiring she was (is).

Her surgery involved just overnight before she bounded out of the forest and into her future.  A great girl/woman whose beauty goes far deeper than the fleeting outward looks of youth.  I pray she will continue to progress physically and enjoy the fullness of life she so richly deserves.

Most of the time since I've been home I've been asleep - there is nothing like one's own bed is there?  The hopsital beds were comfortable and 'clever' in that they had remote controls to move them to different configurations, but it was bliss to return to my own rather old and totally unsophisticated bed and to sleep.

Who needs memory foam when if you keep you bed long enough it is perfectly contoured anyway?!

Although I still wake up every time I move, and have only two positions in which I can sleep, it was the most restful night I've had in a week - evidenced by the fact that I didn't surface until 9 a.m. - sheer bliss after being woken at 6 a.m. so the nurse could do obs on the person in the next bed!!

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, when you can sleep in your own bed... (with apologies to the Letter of James).