I have just taken delivery of this book which looks really interesting, relevant to what I am researching, and in that delightful way of all my past endeavours to research anything, looks as if someone else has already done what I want to do!  There is a link between independence of thought and novelty/originality I have yet to fully understand, but I think it is, generally, OK to discover as new something others have already found, if only because it gives the discoverer a greater sense of ownership of the ideas.  Well, that was my reasoning when I realised that Fibernacci had already discovered the numerical sequence I found/invented as an 8-year old!

Essays in the book include:

Between "Romance" and "True History": Historical Narrative and Truth Telling in a Postmodern Age (Shirley A Mullen)

History in Search of Meaning: The Conference on Faith and History (D G Hart)

Whose Story, Which Story?  Memory and Identity among Baptists in the South ( Bill J Leonard)

Decoding Conflicted History: Religion and Historiography in Northern Ireland (Ronald A Wells)

Doing Justice to History: Using Narratvie Frames Responsibly (G Marcille Frederick)

I think I will enjoy reading this book, even if I keep saying 'drat, I thought I thought of that.'  At least if I do, I'll know I'm not totally off the wall! Even if it turns out I'm ten years behind the times...

History and the Christian Historian ed. Ronald A Wells, Cambridge, Eerdmans, 1998

Yesterday when I got back home after the funeral, I discovered that one of the wheel trims from my car was missing.  This is annoying, and because it looks odd, and I don't like odd, I will be on the look out for a replacement.  But what I really don't get is 'why'?  Why, oh why, does someone want a scuffed Citroen Saxo wheel trim?  There are some odd people out there, that's all I can deduce!

Of course, had they nicked all four, it would match and I'd be annoyed but not unbalanced!!

Familiar words: "I can do all things through [God] who strengthens me"

This morning I headed for to D+2 to set up everything for the funeral, and all was fine.  Indeed all was fine until people started to arrive half an hour before the service and I started to offer hugs to weeping people; then it suddenly all felt difficult and I wondered, would I get through.  Mere professionalism isn't always enough. As the minutes ticked by and service time approached, I paused to think of the many, many people I knew were praying with and for me.  As the hearse drew up I felt calm, in control and assured that all would be well.  And it was.

Yesterday I preached on the call of Moses, and reflected on Moses' denial of his own natural, God-given abilities, and God's anger at Moses' arrogance/self-deprecation (whichever it was).  I commented that God only calls us to things we can do, and that usually our natural abilities connect with that.  Perhaps I was, as are all the finest sermons, preaching to myself?

All I know is that in some way - mystery in its true expression - God took away the anxiety and replaced it with peace, authority and compassion just when it was needed.  And for that I am truly thankful.

When I met one of my DPT supervisors for the first time, he told me he was just about to leave the university for a new career - had my reputation gone ahead of me?  In two years I've seen him twice, and although he continues to contribute very helpful comments on my written work, it isn't quite what I'd envisaged supervision to be.

Now, it seems I've scared off the other one who is getting as far away from me as possible by moving to Australia (see here).  Guess he's a bit tougher, it's taken almost nine years to do this!  I am delighted for Sean and his family that they have this, well deserved, opportunity, but a tad miffed at having to look for (yet) another supervisor.

More seriously, congratulations Sean, and every blessing as you take your considerable teaching skills to a new context.

Tomorrow we have a 'difficult' funeral here in Dibley, as we say farewell to one of our younger members (in their fifties).

As I arrived at school today to set up, the locum caretaker, with whom we have a great relationship (along with the regular one) asked me it was possible still to believe in God when this happened.  I was able to quote a conversation I'd had with this person a few weeks back in which she'd told me how even as a young person she'd appreciated that faith in God wouldn't guarantee immunity from suffering or struggle, but would give her strength to live through it.  I went on to say that the God I believe in is not like a geni in a bottle who grants our every wish.  He thought for a moment, smiled and said, I guess if it was like that, the place would be full every week.  I'm not sure he was convinced of God, but he listened and will clearly think more - and this woman's faith continues to touch others.

A little later the next youngest person to me (she's 6 months older!  We are the babies of the church) arrived to set out the tea things.  As we talked about tomorrow's service, she asked who I had to talk to about it all, and how did I cope.  After I'd explained about hiding behind the 'dog collar' (being in role) and how I'll clear off for an hour or two after the event to unwind, she just said, well you can come to my house if you need to.  This woman is a quiet saint, never in your face with her faith, honest with her struggles and questions, yet she gets it.

The service went off alright, if a little subdued by events; I came home with final preparation to do for tomorrow but having glimsped something of the grace of God in an agnostic caretaker and quiet disicple.

May God grant me the grace and courage to hold God's people in my heart tomorrow.