Lurching on

through one of the busiest weeks I ever remember (nothing particularly extraordinary, if you don't count an imminent Medieval Fayre...just an awful lot of everything) there has been the odd moment of pure grace.

One came on Monday evening, when I received a phonecall to tell me that a family who had tried Church in the Valley the previous day had decided that they liked us, and would be returning to this, their parish church, after a few years of worshipping elsewhere.

One came in my biennieal pastoral interview with FabBishop...We talked about the things to celebrate as well as the things that challenge and in his company it was easy to see priorities, to recognise the little local difficulties as things that will pass...and to understand clearly that if God has brought me here, as I'm sure God has, then I don't need to fret about my fitness for the task.

One came when I turned a corner near school on my bike, and found myself confronted with a group of diminuitive cyclists, all equipped with helmets and high-vis jackets in preparation for their cycling proficiency test, who erupted into cries of joy and welcome "Here's Kathryn". I love being part of another school community and am having such fun strengthening the links between parish church and church school. On Mondays now I open Church in the Valley by 8.15 in the morning, to allow staff and parents to drop in and pause for thought at the same time that I'm encouraging the Valley Church congregation to pray for the school. It's so good that the two communities have each other.

So, while I've been racketting around like a ball in a pinball machine, I've had people to remind me of the sheer blessing of being where and who I am. And that's good. Now if I can only manage bed before midnight tonight, and perhaps even a lie-in on my day off tomorrow (or at least a return to bed after the dawn chorus) I shall be well set up for a busy weekend.

One day I'll manage some reflective blogging again, surely! I do want to...