The weekend WAS nice. I, too, attached all my multitudinous fears and worries to a small stone, and threw it in the river. Kevin dropped his from the bridge – I lobbed mine into the frothy bit at the bottom of the waterfall.
Mostly, it worked. The effect is starting to wear off, now, but for a while there, I was pretty content with it all.
One of the exercises, to do with the “outward journey”, involved taking a photo of the whole group, and projecting it on to the wall. The idea was that you look at yourself, on the picture, and try to see yourself as God sees you, and as other people see you – the person who is taking God out to the rest of the world.
To my unbelievable surprise, I liked what I saw. I thought I looked well, and happy, and… pregnant. Inexplicably, because there’s not much to give you away at six weeks, and if there is, it’s usually to make you look LESS well.
What do you think?
It may sound clich?d to talk about the church as my family, but we were especially family-like, this weekend. People were so pleased for us, when we told them, and so careful of us. It was very special. I wouldn’t be without that group of people for the world.
Especially when the car broke down, and they all ganged together to make sure we got home OK…