September 2008

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My youngest son offered to pray for my oldest son in the swimming pool today - he prayed that he would no longer be a chicken but would become a boy!  Yup.  Very, very surreal.  However, he has grasped the nature of healing as something that God has fun with, that it can be blessed and therefore encouraged by us, and that it effects change.

There were some fantastic healings at New Wine this year (ask my daughter about it!).  I have no idea why some people are healed and and others are not, even after specific words of knowledge.  But I do know that God is active and works miracles in people’s lives.  Healing doesn’t seem to be related to faith, prayer of determination – God’s Spirit blows where it will…  We are called to bless what we see.

When I asked a woman detoxing at work if she would like me to pray she got down on her knees before her mouth even began to say yes.  I would love to say that she was healed, but she got up again still desperate for sugar and shaking with withdrawl.  It doesn’t stop either her or me praying though.

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Those of you without teenage daughters may not have come across Jack Wills.  With superb marketing, it sells casual clothing at non-casual prices to those who want to look cool.  Even the knickers are cool, and cost £16 this season.  I say no more.

After some considerable persuasion, and exemplary exam results, I bought my very own teenager a grey hoodie.  She promptly asked if she could take it on the school outward bound weekend.  A very expensive, very cool, and very casual hoodie in lakeland mud!  But it came home without a mark on it.  Very impressive.  So when she asked if it could come to New Wine, of course I said yes…

All went well until a child staying with us came off his bike, swallowed by the mud monster of Shepton Mallet.  My teenager was first on scene, knelt in the mud and prayed for him.  She then helped him up, and got him to the medical centre, all the time supporting him, while offering prayer and encouragement, wiping away the mud.  Well done BK.  EXCEPT, she was wering the Jack Wills hoodie.

Enter the mother with the dilemma.  ”Good job with hurt child; how could you wear that very, very expensive hoodie; but good job; but how am I every going to clean it; but you did just the right thing; but I’ll never get it dry…”  Five days later it was still dripping, since at New Wine this year nothing dried.  And I had just about come down from the tent roof.

The experience of loosing my cool at New Wine is always salutary, since every tent on site can hear the row.  How some of those other parents of a teenager must have laughed.  Still, bouncing off tent walls is quite a soft experience compared to brick.  And the hoodie looks ok – just appropriately aged.

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What do you do when you get bored?  I day dream, or fiddle with something.  If I’ve got a pen, I doodle.  One of the best meeting I ever went to happened over 3 days in Belfast, and the American animator provided clever magnet plastic shape things, which stuck together in fantastical and absurd patterns.  I concentrate better and work harder if I’ve got something to fiddle with!  Having only just passed my maths O level, I’ve never been drawn to a mathematical doodle, but Adrian does.

While he is listening to the sermon (yes, even mine!) Adrian creates statistics about our church.  Apparently, a few weeks ago, 18% of the congregation in the nave were men, average age 48, and 82% were women, average age 62.  In the sanctuary 41% of the leadership (including choir) were men, averaging 61, and 59% women, average age 69.  Therefore, apparently, the average age of the congregation was 63.  Not sure what all that means, except I was in Junior Church.  I guess I could have radically altered the statistical shape of the church, if I had been there!

Heaven fore-fend that I should suggest that church is ever boring, especially when I have a vested interest in the splendour of Church of England liturgy.  But I am allowing myself to acknowledge that there can be meeting-boredom, even when I am chairing.  So I have a very useful tool in my dairy that I bring out at ‘those’ moments.  It gets me through…

THINK EVIL THOUGHTS!

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