Every year, my ministerial alma mater invites me to attend their valedictory event - usually a Saturday, with a barbecue and a service - and every year I can't get there, either the logistics are too complicated or local commitments rightly take priority.  This year lockdown means it is taking place online, so I can take part, and that is a real joy, an unexpected blessing.

One tradition of the college, at least in my day, was to give you a book token and a book plate so that you could choose your own gift - they reckoned we had enough Bibles, and would almost certainly be presented with one at ordination, so it was over to us.  As it happened, I chose a Bible, now seventeen years old and very battered.  I am glad I made that choice, because the Bible has been with me in some of my saddest and darkest times as well as gladdest and brightest. 

I don't always use it, there are newer translations and paraphrases, but it is always on my desk, never the bookcase, and goes with me to courses, conferences, care homes, hospitals and holidays.  And every time I open it, I am reminded not of a date (unusually this one has never fixed in my brain) but of a community of people who I love, and who love me.

Today a new cohort of NBC-formed ministers will be unleashed on an unsuspecting Baptist world - I pray they may know the joy of God, the inspiration of Sophia Spirit-Wisdom and the accompaniment of Brother-Christ in all they do.

(PS: Seventeen years? How did that happen?!)

Thank you, B, for this hilarious cartoon inspired by one of my favourite celtic blessings...

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields

and, until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

When lockdown began, the days were still short and the nights were long.  On my walks I sought out daffodils and crocuses (croci?) to brighten my day.  As time passed and the days lengthened, there were tulips and hyacinths, then pansies, azaleas, rhodedendrons and azaleas.  Now the roses are in full bloom, sweet peas, wallflowers, geraniums and hydrangeas, clematis and honeysuckle all add colour and even heavy scent to the air.

The earth is full of 'pied beauty' as Gerard Manely Hopkins would have expressed it.

This riot of colour sits on the steps of a pentecostal church not too far from where I live.  Each time I pass by it lifts my spirits, seeming to be, in and of itself, an expression of praise directed heavenward.

Here is the poem...

An imperative, "you - shine like stars" or a nominative, "you shine like stars"?  I'm going with nominative, and not checking the Greek for the verse in Philippians.

Today we talked about stars, how God knows and names them, how God ensures not one is missing, and how we are likewise loved and cherished. And we learned of a star named for our church, in the 'Arrow' constellation, which shines in the night sky, even if we cannot see it. 

You shine - it's a fact, a thing, a truth... even if sometimes the light is dimmed or hidden, it's still there.  God sees it and God knows it.

As I strolled round the supermarket, every few minutes a recorded voice would remind me, 'only buy what you need...'

Anyone who really knows me, knows that part of my unique perosnality is that I am hardwired to do as I'm told.  So, 'only buy what you need' means only buy what you need...

For the first few weeks of lockdown I did just that, scurrying round the shop as fast as I could, one bottle of milk, one bottle of juice, one carrot, one pack of veggie sausages...  Buying an Easter egg (it was before Easter, remember!) was a definite 'no no'.  At that time, there were media reports of heavy handed police officers in Northampton (where I grew up) checking people's shopping bags for contraband 'non-essential items'... maye that's where I learned this behaviour!!

Buy what you need can mean, and at it's simplest reading does mean, stick to the basics, and only buy the amount you will use between now and the next permitted shop (in seven days time).

But, as my Mum used to say, and she was right, 'a little of what you fancy does you good.'

One of the things I really have to work hard at is self-care, to recognises that sometimes what I need is not wholemeal bread but chocolate cake, and so on.

Today I treated myself to something that can no way be called 'essential' - as seen in the photo being checked out by Sophie cat, a plastic picnic 'charger' with a cheery nautical scene.  It's not essential or useful, I didn't 'need' it, but I did need the joy it brought me just to buy it, and will bring me as I look at it from time to time.

Some things money can buy, some things it cannot; 'only buy what you need' isn't just about bread and milk either.