Not a big day in Baptist circles - and not strictly speaking today either as it should be kept on 2nd February.  An interesting meld of things... the presentation of Christ in the Temple, the purification of Mary after childbirth and, whence its name arises, the blessing of candles.

I recall Clare (of Dancing Scarecrow) sharing how they had marked Candlemas in their little church one dull, cold February, bringing light and colour to the lives of their, mainly older, congregation.  The Candlemas stories are of old people - Anna and Simeon - of faith in adversity, of the tenacity to keep hoping though all seems lost; exactly the kind of people who dance in East Manchester.

I recall another cold Candlemas when I stood with a couple of hundred other women ministers at the end of Downing Street calling on the UK government to 'make poverty history.'  My friend and I had travelled down by train to be part of this, and as we boarded the train for the return journey an older woman spotting the white cloths tied to our arms said "ooooh, were you part of the protest?  How wonderful!'

That same evening the deacons of my little church met with our Regional Minister to discuss our situation, having just had to close our building due to safety concerns and being unsure what the future held for us.

This year on the true candlemas I will be entering my 'forest' as I go into hospital for surgery.  As I do so, there are connections to be made with these past Candlemasses - tenacity, hope, determination, reality...  Yesterday I received a card with the image of a candle flame on it - a light to help me find my way along the forest path.

Candlemas is a 'light' festival and it is good to recall the words from John 1: the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

I also recall the Taize chant:

"within our darknest night, you kindle a fire that never dies away, never dies away

within our darkest night, you kindle a fire that never dies away."

Whether we mark Candlemas or not, it is good to remind ourselves of its message of hope in, through and beyond the present moment.

At various times I've said I'd write more about the mechanics of Mt Chemo and never quite got around to it.  Over the last week I've had a go at writing somthing - which turned out to be rather long.  It echoes a lot of official advice but there is a bit of 'how it was for me.'  Whether its of of any use I have no idea, but it's here as a PDF file anyway.

After a bit about me, the key themes are...

• finding appropriate support - accompaniment, accountability and boundaries
• life style and side effects - diet, hair, skin, etc.: 'rules' and personal experiences of side effects
• administration of the drugs
• week 3 treats and other extras/options

It isn't definitive but it as an account by one woman who had what can be termed a 'good experience' of chemotherapy.  A lot of the stuff online understandably reflects bad experiences as people seek reassurance that they are not alone in what happens.  Sometimes, though, it's nice to be reassured that it isn't always awful.

* One thing I forgot to include was that I began with a plan for six cycles of FEC with the option of a switch to T after three cycles.  Although my FEC response was bang on text book my consultants agreed a switch to T would be good rather than wish, retrospectively they'd done so.  Right at the start I was told that around 80% of people have this switch - it seems it is pretty much 'normal' with neoadjuvant chemo to have FEC-T rather than six FEC.  FEC*6 or FEC*3 T*3 - either is a good regime so trust your oncologist.  Maybe one day the knowledge gained will be useful in shaping adjuvant chemo regimes too.

A couple of lovely cards arrived this morning - I am a very fortunate person to have such support - and in one was this poem which I've decided to share...

The Divine Weaver

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colours,
He works it steadily.

Sometimes he weaves sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget that he sees the upper,
And I, the underside.

Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skilful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern he has planned.

I like that it acknowledges the unanswered questions of life, or at least that we won't find the answers this side of eternity.  Whilst I'm not sure I go with the preordination the poem implies, I do believe that God somehow works* the dark 'threads' into something beautiful... "in all things God works for the good of those who love him" Romans 8:28.

* or at least can work them thus, if only we are open to that working

HT ST in Dibley for this one.

Check this youtube video for some thought provoking insights on shared humanity and values.

Brenda Namiggade was due to be deported from the UK because, according to the radio news this morning, she could not provide 'credible evidence' of her sexual orientation.  I am left bewildered at what this actually means - what kind of evidence is 'credible' in demonstrating anyone's sexual orientation?

Ms Namiggade says that she is a lesbian, so how is she meant to demosntrate that?  Lust after female security guards?  Dive into bed with every woman she meets?  Dress like a stereotypical lesbian?

Would we expect a heterosexual person to provide credible evidence of their orientation?  Granted, this would not be cause of an asylum request, but even so?  Where does that leave the single, celibate heterosexual?  Not sure I could provide 'credible evidence' in similar circumstances... not sure 'I think so-and-so is really hunky' would count!!

I am at a loss to make sense of this.  I appreciate that superficially it might be an easy claim to make but it is one that is costly if not true (extradition) and if true (long term suspicion and widepsread homophobia).

It kind of reminds me of the old poster that used to be on the walls of many churches - 'if you were arrested for being a Christian would there be enough evidence to convict you?'  The idea being going to church does not a Christian make, nor does saying the right things, it is something about lifestyle.  But what precisely?  It's a sobering thought that if it was us having to seek asylum on religious grounds our lack of 'credible evidence' might be equally compelling.