Travelling on

I’ve always loathed the hymn “One more step along the world I go” but we have travelled this week from “the old things to the new” and we’ve needed in finally laying down our previous life to know we don’t journey alone. 

I was sent this card today! I haven’t retired! It transpires that the church that sent it meant it for my former colleague who IS retiring a week on Sunday. She will probably get one which says “welcome to your new home” or something! But I think some people don’t quite get what being without appointment means. I haven’t retired nor have I left the church as someone on Saturday thought.

It was harder than I thought it would be to finally let go of the South East. We spent a week around hospital appointments and my farewell exploring the area for the last time. We enjoyed a sunny afternoon in Bexhill as Lis had never done the De La Warr Pavilion and we also enjoyed exploring Rudyard Kipling’s home at Batemans which has been on my list of “must go there” places for ages. Sometimes we neglect to enjoy what is on our doorstep.

My farewell on Saturday was a deeply moving and emotional occasion. People said some overwhelmingly lovely things which I did not deserve. It was lovely, after 11 months away to see people again. For a while, it felt like I was back to stay. The steward of one of my churches said after telling me stuff “oh sorry - we are talking to you like you are still our minister.” The feeling of wanting to stay was huge! But circumstances left me with no option but to go. It’s all been very sad. 

We’ve been really glad while down in Sussex for a safe space of retreat and peace as we needed down time in between difficult stressful stuff. This little annexe by a nursery and farm shop was a gift to us. When we travel through difficult waters, we need a safe place to come home to. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about pilgrimage and sudden journeys over the last few days. We are always on the move. I’m having to go to London on Mondays at the moment. After my meeting this week, I decided to do some walking and see what I might learn on the journey.

I called in on Wesley’s Chapel. There were people in there praying, others stopping to learn the story of how God’s grace was shared in a new and exciting way through John Wesley and early Methodism. People from all over the world on Monday afternoon pausing the journey to reflect.

I walked past Parliament. What a mess we’re in at the moment. I still find it scary that in a weeks time Boris Johnson is highly likely to be our Prime 

Minister. Do politicians care or understand people’s journey? 

I walked past Churchill. In a time of uncertainty and dark forces, we need direction and hope. I imagine in war time hearing his rhetoric gave people listening round the radio great hope. We need when the travelling is hard someone who believes in the destination. 

I walked into Victoria station at the height of rush hour. People rushing to get their train to get home after a hard day’s work. People always on the move. I sat in a bar as my ticket didn’t let me get on a train until after 7. A homeless man from Manchester came and joined me. We shared stories of Manchester. He had had a rough time. He didn’t want anything from me but to be noticed. We spent 20 minutes together sharing our common experience of a city we love. He thanked me for my time and went on his way. When the journey is tough, we just need someone to recognise that we just might need some support to keep going.

So tonight I’m back in the Fens, back in my new home, back to begin to do some ministry in a new context, I haven’t retired nor have I been made to move. I’m adapting and grateful for the welcome we’ve received here so far.  It will all be okay. The cats’ story needs to be mine. They’ve had their first holiday in a new cattery and have had a lovely time. They look the most content they’ve ever looked. We have journied to this point. We name our hurt in losing stuff, we acknowledge what has been, we count our blessings as we look to the future. And we turn to God when it all feels too much...

I come back tonight to my favourite words of Thomas Merton which are a comfort and I look at my staircase wall with reminders given to me of Hastings and of Rye and I offer the journey ahead to God..

My Lord God,  I have no idea where I am going.  I do not see the road ahead of me.  I cannot know for certain  it will end.  Nor do I really know myself,  and the fact that I think that I am following  your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.  But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.  And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.  I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.  And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.  Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me,  and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.   Amen.