Muddled and confused - but here goes!

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way", and so the Story of the tale of two cities began -  a piece of prose I have always loved – and I have now found an occasion to use it.

No sooner do I get excited and start posting messages on my blog again, when things go horribly wrong. I suppose that is often the case when we are trying to create something, but I don't know about you when I start stumbling around trying to make you think of that makes sense of things something much more positive comes in its place. Hence this post starts with that quote.

The last 2 to 3 weeks have really been for me the season of light and the season of darkness all rolled into one.

So I just read through my past bloggings to see where I was getting too – if Indeed I was getting anywhere – and to see whether I needed to pay more attention to the basics I need. You see I make myself little notes everywhere, just when something catches my eye, and then it is all about weaving these odds and  ends into God's Golden thread.

Odd ends and basics  like water. I have experienced some of the worst muddleness and confusion that I have ever experienced in all my life and whilst the medical team thought at first it was the calcium levels out of order – which indeed initially it was, they now think  that it is dehydration so I am going to have to pump more water into my body and then let it quickly dissapear..

So Water – nothing more basic than that – and those of you who have heard of my baptism chat which i have delivered quite excitedledly at Christenings over the past 20 years.

will know I always emphasise the strength and importance of water in our lives – and say how important it is that we symbolise water in baptism telling us how Jesus is so important and powerful in each of our lives. 

And then one night this thought hit me - I have often mentioned that those who are close to me – Sue Charlotte Daniel Duncan, their families and my many wonderful friends always the closest, and I always associate them with the feeling of God's presence being with me. Perhaps in times to come there will be a time when they will not be physically

– What happens then – where is God then?

That is the work I need to concentrate on right now. There are many wonderful passages in the Bible supporting this – many I have already quoted.

Joshua 1:9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”  - that is my favourite!

Excuse me a moment please!

A visit yesterday from one of the GPs from the surgery, one who I knew quite well during my time as Vicar of Rainworth.  It was good to see her.  

She came to review me following District Nurses'  call and her concern at a sugar reading of 2.8.  Just a gentle reminder to me that the Diabetes still needs looking after! And it will!

The GP and I are more concerned at my water retention "edema" due to cancer.  She has again doubled my water tablet, so if you come and visit me, and I get my little jug out, please don't be offended if I ask you to leave for a moment.  

How different from when I was  a baby/toddler, and as my mother has always proudly reminded me - "Richard was potty trained when he was 18 months!"  Oh dear I keep thinking to myself when I recall this little story, but then she also went on to say she carried a jam jar around just in case.  

Today with the medication they've got me on, it will not be jam jars I need but great big empty containers – so if you see me coming with a bag containing a funny shaped item – please don't be concerned.

Today, Saturday, has seen some of the family arrives for a cup of tea. It has been lovely to see some of our grandchildren, along with Louise, and Louise's parents and brother Anne, Roy and Jamie. They are a lovely family and over the past three or four years we haven't seen them quite so much as they don't drive and with my illness things have not been possible, which is a great shame!

Life for me at the moment is all about the bare necessities -  Water, jugs, cups of tea, Families, relationships!

Get these right, and we get everything else right.

By getting our fundamental relationships with God right, we can simply pass everything all our other worries and cares to  him and he will take good care of  each one of us. 

That's his promise to you and to me.

Getting the balance right

Once again I have managed to delete  my first attempt at this posting to my blog and I am saying very quietly to myself oh dear!

 

So here goes for another time. 

Just to bring you up to date since my last post, I have had 2 separate 2 nights' in either the hospital or the hospice trying to deal with my calcium levels. 

 

Calcium levels in "normal" people are not usually of much concern, but for cancer patients they can be critical, and they must be brought under control. Today I have had my blood tests and I'm now eagerly awaiting the results.

 

Today as I write I have just finished lunch with my sister Catherine and her husband Chris  and then they are taking me out in the afternoon.  We are going to go for a car ride into Derbyshire.

I'm trying to feel very stressfree without any worries. Those who know me well will know that worrying and being unstressed don't go very well with me. 

 

However as I sit in this pub I am feeling just for the moment that I haven't a care in the world.

But then the results from the blood tests coming to mind and I start worrying again.

 

As a Christian I feel worrying /stress and living out my face don't go together very well.

 

That reminds me of a Bible reading I have had so many times – let me read it again.

It is Matthew chapter 6 versus 25 to 27 and onwards

How they speak to me – go on, you open a bible and look at those words and let them speak to you.

So much for the preaching – that was not my idea at this stage of this posting. But just look at the words and let them speak to you.

 

So I have to get the balance correct between stress and stopping worrying, and being realistic about the future.

 

Many of you have either written a text or telephoned me to say you miss my blogs – and I agree it is a time since I last produced one.  I am now going to try and write a posting on my blog at least twice a week, hopefully more, which will be posted also on Facebook and twitter in the view and hope that as many people as possible can find out what's happening to me.

 

It may be very very short, it may be longer, but hopefully it will reach out to more people and on a more regular basis.

 

The second thing I want to do is to consolidate all my past postings into one form and if you would like me to send you an E copy of this, would you please let me know and I will gladly do so.

 

For me, let me take on board as I eat my Lunch, ride along without care or stress not worrying, and yet looking forward,  as St Matthew tells us, to God taking care of all our  needs.

Blessings!

The twists and turns of the journey of life

Final reflection on French Trip

 

I am sorry that this final reflection has been delayed, but I have had news which I could have done without. 

I wrote a posting for Facebook shortly after receiving news from the oncologist which I had been dreading.  The news followed my recent CT scan the week before and went along the lines that it was now a fact the cancer is progressing, and there is nothing more he can do for me, other than the treat symptoms, and in reality it is now a matter of months rather than years.  He did go on to say that with untreated cancer you don't know what will happen next.

 I got the news on Wednesday, and the irony of it all is, that on the Monday, following my blood tests, they wanted to admit me into King's Mill because my Calcium levels were high - dangerous for those living with cancer.

 So Tuesday Morning I was admitted into Hospital, to Emergency Assessment Unit, where I stayed for 3 days, and where they managed to reduce the calcium.  It caused me great pain, which is only just subsiding.

 What you don't know is that I had been admitted the week before, following my foot clinic.  What they were concerned about that time, was my swollen leg - fearing a DVT - but scans and tests proved there was no DVT.

 

It was during the second stay this week that I got the news I referred to earlier.

 Please don't treat me any differently, I still have life to live.  OK so thats enough of the sadnesses and doom and gloom enough of all that just for now, back to my final reflections on the France and Belgium trip.

 

So after 17 trips, 14 with people from our respective and former parishes, and many different people over the years at that, what is there for me to reflect on this time.

 

These trips are very emotional, as those of you who have ever been with us, or indeed visited on your own.

Every trip I have found something powerful to take home with me, from that very first time when I felt God saying something to me, which turned out to be part of a continued call to ordained ministry, but that time telling me the time was right.

 
A real call because the 23 years in stipendry ministry have proved to me to be right, as it has to others to who it has been my privilege to serve.

Different people I have met and stayed with - the Rector of St George's Chapel  in Ypres, who put Martin and I up for a night, Diane and Vic, who have become such great friends over the years, Christine, who owned the other BB we usually use as well, which was a former Railway Station, the various hotels I have stayed in in Arras, Albert, Cambrai, Lille, Ypres, and many more places - all my dear and close friends who have  accompenied me on these journeys.

 And all which is yet to come, because my journeys here have not come to an end - I intend to come for as long as I can, and although I have been in considerable pain at times, the end of these trips is not yet in sight.

But what I have learned this trip, and you will have heard me talk of this before without possibly learning for myself the true value of it, is to slow down, and have time to reflect on the things you have done, even if they have not been as many or as tightly timetabled.

It has been good sitting in the car while the others have gone round museums, thinking about, reflecting upon, and trying to make sense of what I have seen and appreciated.

 
I have had much more time to put pen to paper, or rather finger to iPhone to get these thoughts down.

I have also been able to observe how people cope with a sometimes grumpy, fully morphined and medicated not yet very old man like me.

And again some surprises have been forthcoming.

I have mentioned already in an earlier posting about how my pain and aching is really nothing compared to that of some of the men who were wounded in the trenches, and treated and cared for, in quite primitive conditions by today's standards, hundreds of miles away from loved ones and from home.

Even in my present situation, I mustn't forget my many blessings - blessings which can so easily be forgotten in today's busy and chaotic world.

Always Remember, Never Forget, learn from your past, but move on!

Thursday morning, still glorious sunshine, but much cooler thanks to a very strong and lively wind.

Going to Belgium today, Flanders, based in Ypres.  

At the moment in Ljiasenhoek Military Cemetery, the second largest British Military Cemetery on the Western Front with almost 10000 British soldiers, and many German, French Chinese and American.  A place I have never been to!

This was a cemetery used for those who died not on the Battlefield, ie where they fell, but from wounds some time later, wounds sustained in action. 

This gave it a totally different "feel" to the usual places we visit, because some of the headstones were dated in a few cases 2 or 3 years after the war had ended.

This place also made me think, of the pain I am in, and as hurting it is for me (after all i have my friends around me to help me) I think of how awful it must have been, and the pain must have been for all these men and some women in conditions far from ideal, and so far away from family and friends.

A very  impressive place!

Our next stop is Hooge Crater Museum.  When we got there my back was hurting so much that I wasn't able to get out the car and have a walk round the Museum.  But others  told be that it was an excellent experience. 

In the car I ate the pack-up which our host the bed-and-breakfast kindly provided for me free of charge each day.

When Mark and gang came back, he discovered that his ignition to his car had been left on, and this had flattened the battery.  He and Kathryn had to go and search for and purchase a jump lead, which they soon did, and we were  on our way again !

Now into the city of Ypres.  Some shopping (a ring bought for Sue, something equally as nice for Charlotte, some  Belgian Chocolate), a visit to another museum, a sit in the car for those whose bones hurt!!

We then had a lovely meal in a restaurant on the Market Square, before moving to the Menin Gate to experience the moving ceremony which has taken place every night, with the exception of the Second World War years, since the end of the 1914-18 war.

As moving as ever, this was the 17th the I have experienced it!

Then back to BB - a 90 minute care journey under difficult circumstances, but sadly completed.

Today is Friday - staying local in Peronne and Albert!  Again because of pain, stayed in car while the others went to the town's WW1 museum.  They really enjoyed it, and got much out of it.

Great excitement on the way from Peronne to Albert - a massive aeroplane passed overhead - a Beluga Airbus - Airbus  has a large factory in Albert.  Car stopped, cameras out, great photos!

Afternoon spent in Albert, then Hypermarket, evening at le Poppy.

Tomorrow we sta the journey home at 10.00am French time, getting home around 10.00pm British time.

Nous sonnes ici a la France, encore un fois

Next Blog

Setting sail on my 17th trip to the First World War battlefields of France and Belgium, and the 13th trip with people from our various churches.  

It was of course from my first visit to this area in 1985 that I felt God speaking to me in Paschendale cemetery which eventually led me to offer myself for ordination to the priesthood, for the second time, having been "turned down" on my first quest.

So these next few postings will be a narrative along with some reflections on this latest trip/pilgrimage. 

We arrived at Hardcore-aux-bois which is near Albert on the Somme region of France, after an excellent journey - although the ferry was very tatty - nothing the the cruise ships of the past 2 years.

As usual we are having our meals each night at "le Poppy" which is a traditional French cafe which serves a five course meal plus either wine or beer for less than €15 – what a bargain!

A great evening followed by a wonderful night's sleep.

Woke up the following morning, that is Tuesday, to a lovely French breakfast, along with some excellent company and  discussion, Diane and Vic who own this wonderful BB are now real friends, and welcome us as such.

This was followed by a visit to Delville Wood  – a memorial park and centre for the South Africans who fought in the war.

This time I stayed in the car, as I was in considerable pain - the result of the long journey yesterday, I think.

All around us here, are the preparations for next year being the centenary of the start of the First World War.

Wedneaday today, and glorious sunshine and 18degrees.  Driven for an hour and three quarters taking the scenic route, to Ors, a village near Le Cateau,  but much more importantly where the grave of who I consider to be the Greatest  War Poet, Wilfred Owen is the be found.  

I am sitting in the said sunshine, beside the said grave, as I write, and it is wonderful.  Many of our group have not been here before because Wilfred Owen was killed within the last week of the war when the Allied Forces were advancing at speed, and action here in those last days of the war is some considerable distance from where the "usual" sites and cemeteries are to be found.

I can't believe the weather - now 23 degrees!

Moving off now to a museum nearby, where Wilfred Owen  wrote his final letter home to his mother before he was killed.

this will be followed by a trip to one of the largest German Military  cemeteries on the Western Front.

Then back to BB for a brief rest, and then "le Poppy" - Diane and Vic are eating with us tonight.

A great week, with great people, and plenty of new stuff to experience, even after 16 previous visits.

I will post now.  Written this on my iPhone so please forgive the typos, and possibly different style and size of writing.

       

     

 

Better than Easter Eggs

Easter Day 2013 sees me in Hucknall Parish Church, and what a wonderful service it was!

It had everything – things which when I was an active Vicar would lead me to despair – like noise, children running around everywhere, indifference by adults.   But also all that is so good in worship - and which outshone everything else – it's friendliness, it's holiness, it's sincerity, it's joy, and so many glimpses of God being so active in today's world, especially in Hucknall Parish Church, and the community it servies. It really was a great Easter day service and celebration. Thank you everybody for allowing me to be part of it.

Did I feel that Easter Day 2013, after all that had happened in the months before it was a day of celebration and that Jesus had truly risen for me – you bet I did! 

Easter week itself saw me involved for much of the time with our family, including Easter Day after church.

On Wednesday I went with Mark to his sister Wendy's and husband Simon's farm on Anglesey. And that is where I pick up my notes.

Usually I come here for the New Year's eve celebrations, but this year events dictated otherwise, so here we are for our Easter trip!

It really is beautiful and all the farm animals are making their appropriate noises round the car where I am sat, by way of welcome.

Mark is busy unloading the car and saying his hellos – but his hellos seem to be taking longer than unloading the car at the moment as he hasn't unloaded me yet!

It has been a topsy-turvy sort of day – it started off with my four weekly visit to the oncologist at Kings Mill Hospital.

The eagerly awaited report regarding my lung function hadn't arrived, but because I have lost a further 5kg in weight due to my loss of appetite, he has decided to take me off the cancer drug and let my body recover from the onslaught of the medication.

This will hopefully sort out all the side-effects which are happening – funny things with my bowel and other parts of that region, my sore mouth, and a genuine tiredness at times.    A CT scan is to happen before next visit, and if drug still appears to be working, he will put me back on it.

The couple of days in Wales have been wonderful.  I slept so well in one of their caravans, although I have to admit when I got up in the morning my back and muscles hurt a great deal.

On Thursday we all went to Bangor, where we shopped, and I was dispatched on my boot scooter.  But despite me having freedom, it wasn't the best experience as it was bitterly cold,  and the pavements were far from even.  

Saw a coat in Debenhams which I had looked at in Mansfield's Debenhams, but I had been put off by my eldest son saying that  it looked a bit young for me.  What excites me about it was its colour dark orange – and it has also got a hood.  In Mansfield the said coat been reduced from £75 to £52, but as Daniel didn't particularly like it I moved on. 

Anyway there in Bangor was the same coat this time reduced to £37.50. The problem there was they hadn't got it in my size.  Well, on our visit to Llandudno on Friday, and making a beeline for Debenhams, there was the coat I wanted in my size. 

One problem – there was a button missing. So off I went with the coat to the check-out to see what could be done with the price and I eventually got the coat for £30. Not a bad reduction £75-£30 – at least I haven't lost my touch.

Our day in Llandudno was bitterly cold and again the pavements were terribly uneven. We didn't really make a walk along the front, or as I really wanted to, the pier, because of the cold.  But we did have a nice ice cream and coffee before returning back to Wendy and Simon's farm.

In the evening we went to a lovely restaurant at Rhosneiger on the coast.  It was quite an upmarket restaurant which specialised in fish. I had a lovely crab starter, followed by Welsh lamb – but I'm afraid the Welsh lamb beat me totally and most of it went back uneaten!

Saturday saw us on our way home having had an absolute wonderful time. Despite some muscle pain I have to say the short trip away has done me an immense amount of good.  The oncologist was right on Wednesday, the change of scenery and the change of has done me good.

I am only back just over a week, because a week on Monday I go with Mark and Kathryn and a few people from the parishes on our French trip. Once again the oncologist said I can go because he feels it will continue to be good – and that makes me feel good.

Sunday's only once again at Hucknall parish church – and I was amazed how many people were there with it being what is traditionally known as low Sunday. Again it was an excellent service and ended a wonderful Easter week from me.

I will put another posting on here before the weekend, and then it will be postings from France.

Blessings to you all.

Easters past, present at for the future!

Before I was ordained in 1990, I had great problems with feet.  Not that my feet were causing me concern, nor did I not appreciate the value of all they did for me in getting me around – I just didn’t like looking at naked feet.   Whether it be my own feet, or other people’s feet - for me feet were and are a big turnoff.

So you can imagine my horror when, at my first Maundy Thursday service as an ordained person, my Rector, David James, insisted I got involved with the ancient foot washing ceremony of the day.  Every year since then I have been involved in the annual foot washing ceremony washing small feat, big feet, old feet, young feet, clean feet, other feet I was not quite so sure of. 

One thing that I have always held dear to my Christian faith is that of not being judgemental, and that most certainly applies to people’s feet.

And then there was worse, just as I thought the ceremony was over David said to me get you shoes and socks off now it’s your turn. Other people touching my feet – never!   In any case my feet are far too sensitive and they tickle oh so easily. But that was not to be, down I sat, she was off, socks off, and then my feet washed by someone else.

And over those years God has been wonderfully selective in who he has chosen to wash my feet – often people I have had difficulties with.

Over the years I have not grown to like feet any better, but I have come to appreciate the privilege of seeing this act as a symbol of service, as a Christian, as a Deacon and as a Priest, reminding us as it does of Jesus demonstrating to his disciples (and to us) his ministry as One who has come to serve!

The Maundy Thursday foot washing would be followed with a period of prayer and a vigil. Indeed join my curacy years at Wollaton, the vigil went on all night. The night was divided into hours, one hour would be time for quiet private prayer, reading, and reflection, and the next hour for some corporate activity. I remember that we read Beckett one year and other years we have some music to appreciate – I remember doing a session on First World War Poetry.  This commitment seems to have dwindled over the years and an over the last few years after the foot washing no one at all has stopped behind in church.

Good Friday has seen me involved in a variety of activities – from being involved with, and a couple of years leading, the three hour service from noon until 3 o’clock in the afternoon. I have been on a variety of walks – in Rainworth and Blidworth we used to walk from Rainworth Church to St Andrews Mission Hall and then on to St Mary’s Church; and at each place would be some act of worship and some food. I was so pleased to see that Churches Together in Rainworth and Blidworth now do something very similar, but including more of the churches.

During my time at Ollerton and Boughton, Churches Together have organised a “Walk of Witness” from the Methodist Church via the street corner outside the Co-op, and St Paulinus’ Church, and Lifespring Pentecostal Church.   I have thoroughly enjoyed these and feel they have been wonderful acts of witness – and that is something I don’t think I would have said before moving to Ollerton!  The proceedings would end up with Coffee and hot cross buns either at Lifespring or our church.

In the evening we would have a more reflective service – Tenebrae (a moving service of candles being extinguished), or some other reflective style of worship.  Apart from the walk of witness in Ollerton, I feel Good Friday numbers have really dwindled, and we all seem to have got caught up in the way of the world.  I had hoped to watch something suitable for Good Friday on television yesterday, but there was nothing at all on, and I ended up watching Hattie Jacques in “Carry on Matron” and fell asleep!  (I love the Carry On films)

For me over the years, Saturday the day before Easter, was always a day of getting ready for the big day on Sunday. But there were always people who insisted on having the Easter Eve service in the evening, with the bringing in of the new light - the light of Christ.  From a very large numbers, these have dwindled right off and last year there were only four or five of us on a bitterly cold April evening.

 

The season of Easter today has always been a day of great joy and celebration.   We find it so much easier to celebrate, and it is right and proper we do so when we have carefully followed our Lord step by step through Holy Week.

I find myself often asking the question (more often in recent times) as to what it would have been like to have been there - standing at the foot of the Cross, walking in the garden early on that first Easter Day.  How would I have reacted?  What would I have said?  What would I have done next would I have run away?  Can I believe what I am seeing? 

 

Surprisingly, at least in my eyes, all this makes so much more sense as I continue to grapple with cancer.  It's the only conclusion I can come with as I look back on all God has done for me, and for others. Jesus' death and resurrection was for me, and for you, to make sense of our earthly lives, and to make then "other worldly". 

 

For me, my continual call to priesthood over many years, even through one "failed" selection conference; my journey from the cosy comfy world of Banking (well it was then!) to the challenging and exciting world of being a priest; and as I sought through prayer to see what God had in store for me next.

So where is all this leading to?

True to my title I have rambled on about Holy Week, Good Friday and Easter, but what are we to make of it all.

One of my sons unfortunately can’t get to grips with the religious aspect of Easter – and I do empathise with him, everso slightly.

So often we try to compartmentalise our lives and our experiences. For example many will be going to a football match this afternoon – I know of at least one bishop who will!  Is that wrong? Is that unholy?  No of course it’s not.

Others will have gone away for a few days – holiday with friends and loved ones, fun, recreation –re-creation in God’s image?  Is that wrong - no of course not.

Rather we should take the totality of our experiences, those we call “holy” and those we label “secular” and put them all together.

Life is all about these “Good Fridays and Easter Days”.  Life out of death, light found in and through and beyond the darkness,  and in our human experiences the loss of youth, the loss of your credit card (I lost mine this week in the house – only for it to be found!) the loss of a friend/friendship or the loss of a loved one, estrangement from someone, loss of your health, the day your children leave home, the loss of your job, the loss of your independence – and so the list could go on.

Each of these examples are involved with the loss of something. Simply as we grow up we experience that loss through the natural process – loss of hair, loss of a slim waistline (for those who ever had one), loss of nimbleness….

But in each of these cases they are replaced – as that beautiful hymn “Amazing Grace” says ”Once I was lost but now I’m found”.

To lose something and to find/gain something – the sheer cycle of life.

Let’s not wallow in losing something, or not finding something - rather let’s celebrate - a celebration that Jesus rose from the dead for me, and for you, not in the “Holy Way” we so often try to find him in, but in the very depths of our being, in the very depths of our experiences of life.

Only once we have experienced that sense of loss, and darkness, and bleakness, will we be able to celebrate the sheer joy of finding what comes next!

Jesus Christ is risen – he is risen indeed – Alleluia!!!!!

Happy Easter!

It was on a Wednesday night....

Tonight is Wednesday in Holy Week, a week which for the past 22 years has been for me the busiest week of the year, with all the excitement, drama and stresses of following Jesus through the last days of his earthly ministry.

This year has been totally different! I decided that I wanted to go to the annual service in Southwell Minster for the renewal of vows for priests, deacons, bishops, and all those in authorised ministry.

My friend and former curate at Ollerton and Boughton Caroline came to pick me up and took me there. She pushed me with great aplomb in my wheelchair - well she is now used to pushing her 12 week old daughter, although I told her not to sing to me as we walked along, like she sings to daughter Anna!

Not only was there a total reversal of incumbent/curate role here, with me being totally reliant upon her, but after a while we met the archdeacon's wife who pushed me into the Minster - a bit like being pushed by royalty, a great privilege, but we has a great laugh!

After moving me in my wheelchair around a bit, the service began. What a pity they had the wrong hymn typed up on the order of service, and the wrong year George Herbert died - at least I don't think he died in 1963! I mention these two pieces of minutia, because things like this would often happen when I prepared services, and I would get so cross with myself.

I found the service difficult - a lack of authenticity, although I fully accept it was all coloured by the place I was in!

I struggled with the hymns; at the peace, there were people who I thought would come and share the peace with me, who didn't, including one person who was one of my church wardens at Ollerton/Boughton, for the whole of my 4 years there, and who hasn't seen me since I left last September, and who was sitting just two rows in front of me, and knew I was there.

Just after receiving Communion I poured my heart out to the Archdeacon's wife, who I had sat next to for the service, as Carline had robed up and processed! Archdeacon’s wife was an angel, a real star!

Sitting at the end of a service in Southwell Minster, as people left, I reflected long and hard, having got fed up and let down by people who came to greet me, calling me Andrew!

One priest, who I have always found arrogant, said to me after really insisting my name was Andrew "well who are you then!" I had known him for 22 years since we did Post Ordination Training together!

Whilst I concluded that I was very pleased I had come, at that moment I had not enjoyed it, and feel that the traditional established Church of England does not always practice what it preaches.

It is 23 years in June that I was ordained Deacon in that Holy Place, and since then I have served the Diocese of Southwell and Nottingham as faithfully as I can, acknowledging my failures and shortcomings as many as they are. Wednesday night, in our Cathedral Church, I felt a total stranger! (but I fully acknowledge it might be my problem)

Just at that moment when it seemed everyone had gone home, except Caroline and a few of her curate friends, the Diocesan Bishop, Paul, came round the corner to chat with me. He was, as always, wonderful, and I was able to tell him exactly how I was feeling, and how I really felt abandoned by the church, which I still love!

He just listened to me ranting on, and I was able to tell him everything that was on my mind.

He knew just the words to say (not all Diocesan Bishops do may I add).  He was so kind and understanding, without being at all patronising, which is an easy trap to fall into.

So after a considerable time I let the Bishop go only for him to be replaced by another Bishop, Bishop Tony, who was also extremely friendly.

We didn't chat for quite as long as by now it was getting late and it was obviously time for us to leave the minister as the proverbial chairs were on the tables.

I think Caroline and I were the last two people out of the minister other than the staff and I left the building on quite a high note.

Well what a spiritual rollercoaster of an evening!

The Church of England at its worst, and the Church of England at its very best.

In her sermon that evening, Canon Angela Ashwin spoke about glimpses of God in dark places.

Now that rang a bell or two for me. It's fine having all the pomp and ceremony, but that is not where we find the glimpses of God's glory.

This is what I have been banging on about all the time during my blogging, and on reflection it was great hearing it preached from the pulpit in our Cathedral church. I just hope people listened and took it in!

Once again we can't experience the sheer joy and celebration of Easter day, without the stark reality of the darkness and suffering of Good Friday.

I will post again either later today or tomorrow, and then on Easter day itself.

I do hope you have not found this post too depressing, but as Holly week has progressed I have found myself getting lower in my spirits.

I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing as it used to happen to me that when I was in full health as I grappled with the events and reflections of Holy Week.