... or things best not said to your friend being treated for breast cancer.

"Grace-growers" is a phrase introduced to me by a minister friend to describe those people who, in other circles, would described as 'those who p*** me off.'  I think it can also be used for the thoughtless, if mostly well intentioned comments, people feel free to make; comments which to be fair are often an attempt at humour and/or to overcome their own sense of inadequacy.

Here are my "favourites"

• having commented that at least I didn't have to deal with the guilt that some life style choice had caused/contributed to my cancer, someone said "well you haven't had children".  So, never having met Mr Right, and having lived a good celibate Christian lifestyle as a factor in causing cancer.  Hmmm.  Interesting philosophy.  Should I be leading a youth group on sexual ethics in the future I'll remember this one!
• on having my head shaved two separate comments (i) "think of all the money you'll save on hairdressers" (er, no, having spent zilch in twenty years I'd had bills for almost £100 in three weeks - and that's with NHS Scotland paying the full cost of supplying the wig) (ii) "some people spend a fortune on electrolysis or waxing" (of their heads?!)
• when talking about hair regrowth, "ooh it might come back curly, I've always wanted curly hair" - yes, most chemo-ed hair does come back curly because the drugs damage the hair follicles (though ironically if it was curly the effect is often of straightening) however once the drugs clear your system and the hair follicles recover it usually returns to its 'normal' state.  Best not to assume our own hair fantasies are those of others - I always liked straight brown hair as it happens.
• on reconstruction or not, "no one will see anyway so why does it matter."  No comment.

Mostly people are amazingly insightful, and the faux pas are minor (and I can see people inwardly biting their tongues afterwards), so for a bit of balance here are some grace-filled observations

• "all that healthy living is really going to pay off now" - and so far it is.  Good general health and a broadly healthy lifestyle with regular, moderate exercise are all important factors in coping with the chemicals and surgery now and recovery afterwards.
• "I know it's not what you'd have chosen but you do look great" with a new hairstyle
• "That's funky" and "you have a great shaped head" about the shaved look (me and funky in the same sentence?!)
• "I want it" - the lovely gay guys who run the coffee shop opposite church about my sparkly headscarf

Please don't think I'm getting at you if you've said or thought any of the first set of comments (None of my known readers have) and I'm sure I'vw said and done some dumb things myself when I've been supporting friends or "parishioners" with cancer.  I am learning graciousness, which is a good thing.  And most of the unfortunate comments tend to grate more than wound, and I can see that many are an attempt to be humorous or light-hearted.  At some point I may reflect a bit more on the role of humour and what makes it funny or not (people with disability offer some great insights on this) but for now, I'll try to grow a litlte more grace.

It's just lovely in Glasgow this morning, and I'm pausing to savour the moment.

The grass sparkles with white frost.

The sky is a clear pale blue.

From my front windows, the Campsie Fells are seen in full relief beyond the skyline of the city.

And from the rear the south side glistens in the morning sun.

Clouds of chilled breath rise from pedestrians and motorists scrape windscreens.

The trees in red-gold-green-yellow-brown array defy the inevitable one day more

Children trail to school and parents chivvy them onwards.

On a morning like this

There are dances to be danced

Songs to be sung

And a creator to be praised.

Hmm, so which picture should I have as my blog picture?

For now it's a rather ham-fisted composite of four photos, made with very basic software, reflecting how I have looked over the last month or so.  Granted one was taken before I left Dibley, but most of my photos are 'formal' so hair tied back and I wanted one of the few with it loose.

They're all me and they're all not me - no one of them captures more than a moment in time, and maybe that's the point.

Until I decide on something else, or get a better composite, this will have to do.

My penultimate service on the Bible will, I think, involve a series of shorter explorations picking up a few ideas around context (textual, sitz im leben and our own), proof-texting and the handling of tricky passages, all done under the heading of 'doilies and confetti.'

But here's the tricky bit - how I talk about proof-texting without, er, proof-texting?  I have a nice little intra-Biblical illustration, James contra Paul on use of a verse from Genesis, but then isn't that a proof-text approach to criticise proof-texts...?  Oh it's tricky!  But fun.  Tricky and fun is good.

I am working on my reflection for Sunday's service.  It won't be a full blown sermon because I haven't allowed enough time for one, preferring instead to hear scripture read in many different, unfamiliar languages by some of the folk who are part of the diverse community at the Gathering Place - we will have Twi, Yoruba and Swahili for certain and hopefully Korean as well as Canadian French.  That's exciting.

Checking Bible Society information reveals that there are more than 4000 languages yet to have any part of the Bible translated into them, that whilst 1 in 6 people worldwide cannot read, audio-Bibles are available in less than 3% of languages, braille Bibles are only available in 'major' languages and as for sign language, that is only just beginning in the UK (don't know about other countries).  Add to that the numerous nations where Bible reading/owning is a crime.

Now look at the set text - the Nazareth manifesto (Luke 4:16ff) and start linking that to Jesus as the incarnate Word, the church as the Body of Christ, so the word enfleshed in our own day, and see where that takes you...