This blog has now been in existence for three years - which is probably at least 2.5 more than I anticipated.  Looking back over the posts, it is fun to see what has been on my mind at various times and how some themes recur over time.  Since I still enjoy it, and since it is still a place where I feel able to express things, play with ideas and share some of the things that happen in my world, it will continue for the foreseeable future.  Thank you to those who are generous enough to read this stuff and sometimes even comment on it: you are always encouraging and gracious and I value your friendship 'real' or 'virtual.'

So, happy birthday little blog of mine!

No, not literally, metaphorically.  I am suffering from the challenges of trying to please too many people all at once and in the end being left unsure who I am any more!!  It seems that what I write is simultaneously too much like a report and not enough like an essay, is too narrative and too formal, not 'sharp' enough and not 'soft' enough, is too complex and too facile, too detailed and not detailed enough.  I am confused, bemused and now, bruised.  I am sure that all the commenters on stuff I have written in various contexts recently have valid perspectives, but somewhere in all of this I am losing my voice, losing the freedom to say what I want to say how I want to say it, not in the sense of ignoring the requirements of specific audiences, but in being able to be authentically me.  I never was much good at creative writing, though better at poetry than prose, but could produce a decent factual account and deduce inferences from information.  Maybe having a little sister who is fantastically good with words, and will hopefully soon have her first book published, adds to my sense of inferiority?

So, this becomes my safer place to write, where I use my own mish-mash of styles, grammar and vocabulary, can blend bullet points with paragraphs, creativity with commentary, and generally find some freedom of speech.

Verses from a couple of hymns come to mind, which speak to me today:

Take my voice, and let me sing

Ever, only for my King;

Take my lips, and let them be

Filled with messages from thee.

...Take my intellect and use

Every power as thou shalt choose.

Frances Ridley Havergal

Take my talents, takes my skill,

Takes what's yet to be;

Let my life be yours and yet,

Let is still be me

Iona Community

Now I will return to my latest rewriting task, and try to balance the intent behind the comments with it still being my voice that is heard...

Like many of my friends I am an eldest child, and, like many of them, am by nature mainly sensible and responsible.  Also like many of them I have a younger sibling who has a more prodigal nature, is endless rescued by my surviving parent and causes me a mixture of anxiety and irritation.  Compared with many, my younger sibling is not that extreme, but without my mother's unswerving compassion it might be a different story.  Recently I've found myself getting annoyed by the situation, more that it is unfair to her than to me, and last night found myself identifying with the older brother in the Prodigal Son parable.

As I pondered this, and decided that the older brother was justified in being miffed, even if ungracious, I began to think about other older siblings in the gospels and decided we get a pretty bad press.  It is generally assumed that Martha was the older sister and/or oldest sibling, and she is more remembered for her grumbling at Mary's perceived laziness than for her recognition of Jesus as Christ.  In another short parable, the first (older?) son says he'll do what his father requires and then doesn't whilst the second (younger?) son says he won't and does.  You'd kind of hope that Jesus, being an eldest, would have been a bit kinder to/about us - and maybe his treatment of Martha reflects an understanding of her role - but on the whole we don't come out of it looking too great.

So, the upshot is that I'll endeavour to be a little kinder in my attitudes to my sibling, accept more generously that my mother does something Godly and try not to sulk when I feel like the grumpy older brother!

This is fun!  HT Maggi Dawn

You can't earn salvation, but urns can save the day when you have a very leaky baptistry to contend with!

I arrived at D+2 this morning to discover much frenetic filling of the baptistry going on, saucepans of water being heated on the cooker in a desperate effort to get warm-enough, deep-enough water in time for their service, as it leaks so much that overnight it had emptied...  It succeeded, but the thought of doing the same between lunch and our service really did not appeal, so I rang someone from church to see if they could locate and deliver our urn - which they did, along with one from our local Methodists!  Ten gallons of almost boiling water, along with the three baptistry heaters, meant we had water at a pleasant temperature and a good depth, so all was well.

It was a great service, with over 50 people in attendance, despite a fair few of our folk being absent for one reason or another (I guess broken hips are a good excuse...) including family and friends, a few people's spouses who came out for this special event,  and around a dozen or so from D+2 who knew our candidate because she'd attended their Alpha course (though this was not a factor that appeared in her testimony).

The new hymn by Martin Leckebucsh went really well and was enjoyed by those who commented on it.  I discovered even more folk who'd known him at school, as the husband of D+2's minister was in the year above him at shcool...  Hopefully the hymn will get itself published soon so that other congregations can have a great Baptismal hymn to sing.

From there it was off to take an evening service for a congregation of eight at a church to which everyone drives some distance - which made preaching on Hebrews 10 and not giving up meeting seem all the more poignant.  Given that five minutes after the service ended the door had been locked and everyone had gone home I wondered how much fellowship these folk actually share.  Still, they are faithful and obviously value meeting together - even if they sang 'Forth in Thy Name, O Lord I Go' to the dirge that is Old Hundredth because they didn't know the set tune.

And now, finally, I can sit down and enjoy a cup of tea, and reflect on a day well spent.