Not long now until Advent, and for those of us who thrive on advance planning (my Worship Planning Team and me) everything is already in hand unitl the end of 2010; in fact because we are forced to book a few months of stand-ins, we are well on the way as far as April 2011...!

This morning I am meeting with someone to plan out evening worship for Advent Sunday.  I know stir up Sunday is the one before Advent Sunday, and I know it's all a bit of nonsense really, but I am hoping that Christmas puddings will find their way in to what we do that day.

I always enjoy Advent with its sense of anticipation and the challenge of restoring the magic and mystery for adults jaded by umpteen decades of the same old same old.  Being forced to step back a bit this year, to trim it back to basics, isn't easy but it does make me ask myself what really matters.  What is it that stirs us up again to live out our faith in a world of brokenness? The BCP collect prayer for stir up Sunday says

Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I hope that as we meet this morning to plan our act of worship we will find the stirrings of God's Spirit, enabling us to help others prepare themselves for the journey of Advent.

This Sunday we are looking at the Bible and how we read it - a selection of short reflections on reading in and out of context, and as I've posted before 'loadsa Bible.'

Without giving away too much, neither confetti nor doilies are very useful, though each is attractive in its own way.

So, here's a bit of homework for anyone so inclined, Gatherer or not.

If you are a regular user of the Bible, what schemes or methods do you use?  What gets kept and what gets omitted?  For example, if you are a lectionary preacher - a good practice - have you ever sat down to determine which passages are omitted and wondered why?  Or if you us SU material, have you ever wondered how they choose what is 'in' and 'out' of their syllabus?  Or if you do the 'Bible in a year' have you wondered why those passages in that order?  Any or all of these is/are good models, but they all make choices on what is used or not.

Maybe you could have a look at some obscure bit of Leviticus or one of the 'minor' prophets or even one the neat little lectionary excisions and ponder why it was included in the Bible and why we now ignore it.  I recall one of our college tutors doing an experimental service using a variety of texts linked to the expulsion of bodily fluids (I've bowdlerised that for the more delicate reader!) which certainly gave us all pause for thought.

What would you excise and why?  What would you keep and why?

Recently a friend chastised me for saying in an email that I had to see the vampires, on the basis that phlebotomists don't drink the blood they collect (well, not in front of the patients anyway).  So I had to chuckle to myself when this morning the phlebotomist got out a tourniquet that looked like this:

This is just a bit of nonsense really.

This week I have shifted to using E45 shampoo and shower cream, both labelled pH balanced, hypoallergenic and fragrance free.  They are kind to my scalp and my skin, though my eyes don't like them very much.  Ah well, it's all a balancing act.  Care for my skin and put up with itchy eyes for an hour or two.

I'm just not convinced about the "unscented".

The shampoo has a smell reminiscent of the footbaths you used to get at swimming pools in the 1970s - some sort of antiseptic-meets-chlorine kind of smell.  No wonder my eyes don't like it!

The shower cream looks and smells like Copydex glue, even has a similar consistency but thankfully does not stick!

All of which make ablutions a bit of nostalgia trip as the smells evoke aspects of my childhood.  All I need is a few wax crayons, some boiled cabbage and San Izal loo roll and I'll be back to the various primary schools I attended all those years ago.

It intrigues me how smells get associated with certain places and times, how the merest hint of a fragrance can evoke a whole raft of memories, good or bad.  For me, lilies are known as 'Crem Flowers' because they are so often (and for good historical reasons) used for funerals and the smell takes me to the various crematoria I have worked in.  By contrast the smell of lamb cooking reminds me of my grandparents home.  And so it goes on.

All of which serves as a reminder that although I like using scented things in worship from time to time I have to be a bit careful what I choose as I have no way of knowing what effect the chosen scents may have.

How do you count the distance up a zig-zag path when the steep bends precede the longer climbs?  On Friday, all being well, I have my third dose of chemotherapy - half way through the course.  So it's half way, kind of.  It is officially an 18-week course of treatment and this is week 6, so maybe only really a third?  Or do I drop off the last three weeks after the final dose and say it's effectively fifteen weeks?  Who knows.  Psychologically it's better to be half-way through so I'll go with that!

Half way up a hill is a good place to pause and look around a bit - back at what's already been achieved and forward (a bit, not too much!) at what lies ahead.  A space to draw breath, maybe to admire the view or check the map.

Lots of things to think about - mostly good things, humbling things, inspiring things but also the gentle whisper of the 'What If Fairy' .  Baptist ministers probably shouldn't speak of fairies, but there you go, it works for me because she (definitely female for some reason) doesn't fit any of the dualistic theological characteristics of supernatural beings.  The What If Fairy is neither malevolent nor benevolent, not a demon/evil spirit nor an angel/good spirit, just a voice that asks questions that I must then choose how to deal with.  What if my tumour continues to shrink?  What if it doesn't?  What if I only get five years?  What if I live a 'normal' life span?  What if this, what if that?  What if I handle this well?  What if I screw it up?  The What if Fairy does not seek to snare me, but she makes me stop and think and -  being a recipient of free will, albeit shaped by personality and context - it is up to me to choose how I respond.

One of the most humbling things about all this is the number of people who are praying for me - people in churches I've never been to, people in places I've only read about, people of other faiths and, if crossed fingers are a kind of prayer, people of none.  I actually feel quite sorry for God, who must think 'oh no, not her again'.  And of course prayers come in all shapes and sizes, and reflect what is authentic for the person praying them - miracle cures, strength to cope whatever the outcome, wisdom for medics and so on.  I have a dear saint in my own church who tells me I will go through this like a ship in full sail, and tells me I am a great witness to others about faith.  To be a witness of faith that is honest enough to express fear and uncertainty, that trusts in a God who shares the darkness as well as the light (check the psalms!), that believes God works with and through human endeavour and medical skills, that sees 'healing' as different from, but not excluding the possibility of, cure... to do that would be a great outcome, and an answer to my own, largely unspoken, prayers.

Some people tell me I'm brave.  I remain to be convinced: I'm just me, dealing with stuff the only way I know how.  If it is brave to admit your fears, to name your questions, to open yourself to others, to risk being misunderstood then OK.  But I'd rather hope that is just about being the kind of person I want to be.  Tenacious (or stubborn and determined), independent (but learning to be interdependent), positive (with large doses of realism), practical (organised!)... these are aspects of who I am.  It is also far easier to be 'brave' when you heaps of support, as I am privileged to - from my friends, my colleagues, my church, my denomination and way beyond.  Real bravery must be doing it on your own.

So, Friday will bring the third bend on my uphill climb.  No styles this time (at least none I'm aware of) and a sense of familiarity with what the steep bit will entail.  As it happens, this coincides with the Scottish Baptist Assembly, which means I can't attend.  That's a disappointment as I am one of those weird people who loves Baptist Assemblies.  But I will pray for them as they seek to listen for God's voice, knowing that, mysteriously, we are connected within the love of God.

This is long and rambling, but to end, an old hymn that came to mind this morning

Father, hear the prayer we offer:
not for ease that prayer shall be,
but for strength that we may ever
live our lives courageously.

Not for ever in green pastures
do we ask our way to be;
but the steep and rugged pathway
may we tread rejoicingly.

Not for ever by still waters
would we idly rest and stay;
but would smite the living fountains
from the rocks along our way.

Be our strength in hours of weakness,
in our wanderings be our guide;
through endeavour, failure, danger,
Father, be thou at our side.

Love Maria Willis (nee Whitcomb) (1824-1908), Samuel Longfellow (1819-1892)

And a cute picture that just arrived in one of those circular emails we all get...