It was the usual half asleep start this morning. Breakfast, coffee, weaker than usual as Sainsburys do not appear to be stocking the Costa Rica stuff these days, and get ready for the off. Naturally it was teeming rain. I specifically prayed for dry weather when I went out but it had not arrived when I left. In fact, as I walked I realised the rain was stopping, and had almost cleared by the time I hobbled into the church.
Lovely!
As expected the girls soon surrounded me, I was forced to hug Jenny, Caroline, Julie, Sylvia and almost the vicar with his hands held out! I wish he would not wear those robes! Anyway, the service went on in the usual formally informal fashion, and at the 'intercessions,' I struggled to find my glasses so I could read the full page I had prepared lovingly, and limped up to the microphone. I spoke, the crowd reacted, some expected a sombre prayer full of tact and hushed adoration, er, I am somewhat more relaxed. I prayed re the kids, mentioning the miserable old people who complain about noise, and us er, 'Young 'Uns' who delight to see the kids here. Some cycnical reaction here, I know not why.
Afterwards, communion over, tea and coffee being spilt as much as the powdered covered cakes someone foolishly made for the kids which were being splattered across the floor, three people reacted well to the prayer. This was good, not all would react, and sadly I did not get a chance to speak to all. The vicar did speak to me, making no mention of what I said talking instead of his week ahead at some conference re church leadership. When we talked I realised that he is a bit lonely. Here he is as leader, of two churches, but he has no real deep friendships here. This type of church does not have people who share friendships, they are all a little apart. Partly this is due to family needs, work and the distance apart, also many have been here for years and know one another well, but something is missing here. I found this strange at first, possibly little town syndrome. I can call most here friends in one respect each week, but something is missing. I think the vicar finds this also, and his job is a lonely one.
Anyway, having spoken to the important people, and all my women, I made for home in what was now sunshine. I stopped one young woman and her 7 year old boy who was spashing in puddles as they walked.
"Has he done this all the way?" I asked.
"Yes, every puddle!" she said laughing.
I told him he would enjoy it further down the road as the pavement was flooded in places and off they went, he eager, she wondering how to keep him clean and considering whether she ought to have had a girl instead.
At home I ate, fussed about nothing, ate, slept, and ached after walking so far. A good Sunday, considering I got on well with most, did not get stoned as I expected, and found several still oppose the Bishops Stonewall purposes.
Interesting that one newcomer was in this morning. I saw her here a few weeks ago, she and a friend came from London, and I susected them as lesbians, they had the marks. I might be wrong and was unable to speak to her today, I wonder what she thought?
Anyway, I thank those that prayed for me, and look forward to the next time in a couple of months...
