Yesterday's service ended with us singing 'Great is Thy Fathfulness' in the BPW version.  It makes a good harverst hymn, reminding us of God's fidelity and providence.  In the version we used it has these words:

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow

These are the blessings your love will provide

I think I prefer that to 'blessings all mine with ten thousand beside' as it feels, in the 21st century, that the original is a bit materialistic (far from its author's intent I'm sure).  Strength for today, hope for tomorrow - what more is needful?  Blessing enough for me to have these two.

It is a shame that this wonderful hymn seems largely consigned to the box labelled 'funeral hymns' and I'm glad that we employed in the context of celebration yesterday.

I have found bits of Matthew 18 coming to mind over the last few days as the "drug induced alopecia" has taken hold.  Despite my worst fears, the loss of my hair has not reduced me to gibbering wreck, rather it just feels like one more step on the road to health.  It's been a tall stile, if I hold to my long-distance footpath metaphor, and it teases me with the prospect of another just ahead when the residual more tenacious hairs (around 10% of total, those in the 'rest' rather than the 'growth' phase apparently) are shorn and shaved.  Nonetheless, the over-riding feeling is a sense that it is 'better to be bald and alive rather than hairy (can't think of a nice word!) and dead.'  All of which took me to Matthew 18 with its injunction to amputate parts of the anatomy that lead to sin/stumbling in order to enter life rather than retaining them and burning.

It made me wonder about the way in which we imagine resurrections bodies/life in heaven - if we actually give any thought to it all.  Mostly people seem to imagine their current body perfected, at least perfected as per some beauty magazine.  A kind of permanent, perfected 25 year-old self in full health and with perfect faculties.  Which doesn't quite fit with Matthew 18.  And it buys into a lie about what 'perfection' and 'normality' really are anyway.  I recall many years ago hearing of someone who was a lifelong wheelchair user saying that in their imagination everyone in heaven had a wheelchair; and why not - who defines 'normal' or 'whole' as being able to walk or run unaided?

I've also found myself wondering what other little challenges to the 'body beautiful' myth might be justified.  Jesus told people that there would be no marriage in heaven, presumably, in part, as there is no need for procreation.   Which seems to render a lot of body parts redundant.  And so it could go on if we actually took the time and effort to wonder just what really matters, just what of our physicality might (and it can only be might, because we don't know for sure it will be physical anyway) survive into eternity.

The necessity to amputate rather than burn is a scary one.  The necessity to endure temporary or permanent disfigurement in order to live, if undesired, is a copable one.  The idea that wholeness is not measured by number or function of limbs, organs or hairs is vital to enabling us to accept and love ourselves as we are - made in God's image and likeness.  Which makes me wonder... is God bald?! ;-)

We had our harvest thanksgiving this morning and it was SO good!

People kept on arriving and arriving until there was nowhere left for anyone to sit.

The All Age approach seemed to really work, with the children relaxed and happily joining in to the extent they wished as we made the Galatian Holy Smoothie (recipe below) and thought about our favourite smells.  The Operation Agri "children's" video provided our main information on projects but we also thought about the juice and aroma therapy oil projects.

Our 'thought for the day' imagined God has the 'master perfumier' or the 'supreme smoothie make' who chooses the right combination of flavours/scents and expertly crushes them in such a way that the lovely flavours or beautiful scents are preserved and enjoyed.  Unlike the supermarkets and high street stores that only want perfect specimens, God works with bruised apples, speckled bananas and even mouldy strawberries, valuing their inherent potential and gently but firmly combining them in a thing called a church to create something truly amazing.  We steered clear of a God who likes to break people and centred on a loving God who brings out the best we can be.  I think it worked.

When it came to Communion we had two adults and two young children serving and it really worked.  I was afraid of grumbles but thankfully they didn't come.  The children combined dignity with energy, sobriety with wonder - I was blessed by it.  Afterwards someone told how her own daughter when growing up and being excluded from communion complained about missing the party.  No one missed out today.

The student lunch was well received with a good dozen or so students staying (a number of others had to leave due to other commitments) including one or two who were with us for the first time.

All in all a great morning.

Now, even my Greek is good enough to know that the fruit of the Spirit is singular, not plural, but our smoothie, which the children assured me was delicious, was 'nine alive' as follows:

1/4 pint apple juice - love

1 banana, peeled and sliced - joy (a yellow smile!)

1 pear, peeled, cored and diced - peace

1 orange, peeled and segmented and 1/4 pint orange juice - patience (quality needed to peel an orange!)

1 kiwi fruit, peleed and sliced/diced - kindness

1 cup red seedless grapes - goodness

1 cup fresh pineapple chunks - faithfulness

1 cup of assorted melon chunks (or 2 slices peeled and diced) - gentleness

1 cup strawberries - self control (!)

Place all the ingredients in a liquidiser and blitz until smooth.  Ours was a lovely pink colour.

An alternative is my Galatians 5 Fruit Salad.  Ingredients as above except omit the juice, add one apple, cored and sliced/diced and use diet lemonade (living water!!) as the liquid.  Low calorie and scrummy.  Enjoy!

Photos (c) Ian Sinclair 2010

I had hoped for one more hat free Sunday.  It was not to be. Like the trees in autumn the few became many, the many became a torrent and now a few remain.   Is it pride or fear that makes me want to cover up?  Not sure.  My scalp is too tender to take the wig, so a scarf it must be.

Sigh.

I hope the same effect is happening to the cancer cells.

Temporary blog photo achieved by juggling camera auto timer.  As you can see my eyebrows are showing greater tenacity thus far...! (And needless to say, I hope this is not the case for the cancer cells)

One year ago today (to the day not the date) was my Induction at the Gathering Place.  It was a very special day, the culmination of around three months of waiting since the call was discerned, issued and accepted.  It was, as I recall, a gorgeous autumn day and the place was packed with our people, my friends, the church's friends and not a few curious onlookers wondering just what a female Baptist minister might look like.  As we shared our stories and made our promises there was a mix of anticpation and trepidation - we were so sure this was of God, but what if we fouled up?  What if I didn't measure up, I wondered, what if I was 'found out' for the inadequate and not very spiritual person I really am?

The sermon on the day urged as to be kind to each other, words we all took to heart and have sought to live out since.

And as I look back over the last year, it is with a sense of pleasure and not a little rejoicing at what we have achieved, with God's help, together.  We have begun some new things and let go of some that were tired.  We have got to know each other better and have shared highs and lows along the way.  I guess, without knowing it, we have been being prepared for what comes next in our story.

This time a year ago I was looking forward to a festal day, wearing my red suit and my red shoes (something that had become something of a trademark for high days and holy days in Leicestershire) and pleasantly nervous.  It has been a great year, and I have loved every moment of it, at least so far as church and setlting into Glasgow is concerned.  God has not merely been good; God has been great.

No way could I have imagined back then that a year on we'd be where we are now.  Today I am slobbing around in old clothes, picking up increasing numbers of stray hairs and feeling increasing empathy for the trees over the road as I wonder just how long this process will take.  No way a year ago, even a little more than a month ago, any of us would have anticipated that I (and therefore we) would be faced with months of treatment for a life-threatening illness.  Today I am surrounded by the love and support of my people, and hope they are aware of mine for them.  The ideas I had begun to formulate for the next year may or may not find expression, but either way, there is a real sense of togtherness as we step into it, and a quiet assurance that God travels with us

Be kind to one another - I think we are being, and hope that what we attempt to model might give others a glimpse of God's immeasurable kindness.  As the old hymn says:

There's a wideness in God's mercy,

Like the wideness of the sea,

There's a kindness in God's justice,

Which is more than liberty.

For the love of God is broader

Than the limits of our mind

And the heart of the eternal

Is most wonderfully kind.