A Query

 

Hello all. I trust that you are well and that your week has been interesting  - in a good way. I began the week by spraying my hair with lavender furniture polish by mistake and thus spending the day reeking like the inside of an old lady's handbag.

The workplace VE celebrations seemed to go ok. I think I messed the two-minute silence up a bit. I had a few problems getting the telly to work, so I put it on pause for a minute or so while I got it sorted. It was only after the solemn silence that I remembered that I hadn't actually caught the TV up to live timings. So we were about 90 seconds out from Sophie Raworth and the rest of the country. I didn't mention it. The thought was there. Other than that, we ate a lot of Victoria Sandwich in a very respectful way, so I think it went well. 

I'm just trying to remember if I left the house at all, except to work. No, I did. I went to see Thunderbolts*, which I didn't entirely understand but enjoyed anyway. I sat until the end of the credits (14 minutes approximately - not that I was timing it) to see the little previews that they put in after the movie. I wasn't interested at all, but I didn't want all the geeks in the cinema looking down on me because they thought I didn't know that you had to wait until after the credits for the secret little extras. I really must get out more. No, I really must. 

I'm thinking that I might be a bit nosy this week and ask you all about your lives. I have been a bit struck recently by the things I am and am not doing with my life. Don't get me wrong, I am basically a content person and longitude or latitude, I am packed full of gratitude, but as my working hours decrease, I wonder if I should be doing other stuff while I still can. Is it just me? 

I'll be frank, I can't think of anything I fancy doing in church. I currently run the Welcome Rota, which I resent with a passion (I know, I know - why do you do it then? You are right.) What makes it worse is when people are nice to me. Someone came up to me this morning to hug me and say thank you for helping her out changing her date on the rota, and that I am so gentle and helpful, and I must have the patience of a saint. (I don't.) 

I've done most churchy things in my time - youth, children's, teaching, women's departments (as it were) with varying degrees of success. I'm not sure I could do youth anymore because I vary wildly between wishing they would grow up and cut their fringes, to crying hysterically on their behalf because it is so difficult to be a young person these days. I don't mind helping out with children's stuff, but I'm not very good at it, and I am quite intimidated by all the allergy requirements. When I taught Sunday School, it was entirely acceptable to send them home with minor injuries acquired during re-enactments of David and Goliath and The Battle of Jericho. I don't think this would be allowed now (I am certain that this is a positive development).

I'm not sure that I would be able to preach anymore because I am concerned that I wouldn't remember any of the points. This is based on my inability to remember anyone's name literally within ten seconds of them telling me what it is. 

So, in short, I'm not 100% sure what I am supposed to be doing now, outside of the workplace, which is still a demanding environment, just not as often. 

I recently read a book by Steve Chalke - something about the hidden message of Paul. I'm not sure I entirely understood it, and if I had understood it, I'm not sure I would have agreed with all of it, but I was impressed by his approach to getting on with life and being useful. 

Last week, I wrote about not stressing about being able (or not able) to do it all. I'm sometimes concerned about not doing any of it. Do I need a hobby? Should I keep rabbits or guinea pigs? (What is the point of guinea pigs? Does anyone mind me asking?) 

Anyway, I'm interested. What floats your boats? What are your "things"? Hobbies, interests, passions? Any things you do in church that bring you joy? I'd like to know. Have a jolly week, everyone.