Transition: part of life

I’m writing this sitting in my late Mum’s lounge. This morning I was in the solicitor’s office in Harpenden signing the contract as we are close to a sale. In a couple of weeks, this house which has been in my life since birth, will no longer belong to me. 

It hit me as I walked through Harpenden earlier that soon I will have no reason to visit it. I guess we might pass through it or come to visit friends or perhaps be invited to lead worship somewhere but not to have to come will be strange. 

I don’t mind sharing that at the moment I’m having counselling every Monday in London with a lovely gentle man called Simon, to get my head round what has happened over the last year and to try and cope with vast changes professionally and personally. He’s really helping me see that each week I’m making progress as time moves on. Transition, losing home and work and slowly regaining health, or building new relationships takes time. Simon told me today to celebrate that after trauma, I’m doing really well. Every Monday shatters me as I share my story and how I feel. But it’s worth it! 

I’ve felt this past week I’ve made a huge step forward in accepting I’m without appointment and to see this next year and a bit as a gift to build ourselves up to be able to return to a full time post next year. I posted on

Facebook in the week that where we are now feels like home, which is a huge step forward. Like the man lost in Ireland seeking direction was told, “I wouldn’t start from here if I were you” here is where I start to rebuild and I’m very grateful to the folk in The Fens Circuit, who know our story for quietly making us feel welcome. I was told by a Circuit Steward yesterday people are appreciating us popping up at different churches. 

While I don’t have churches to care for this year and a bit, I’m content supporting the ministers in the Circuit and encouraging where I can. We’ve decided to settle at the tiny church at Tydd St Giles as our “home” church while we are here making a congregation of six, eight! 

Yesterday the Circuit held a Circuit Service. I’m really impressed that once a quarter one church stays open in

a morning and all the others close so everyone worships together. It was good to be part of the service yesterday. For the first time I felt I belonged to them. To be able to give people bread was a huge privilege. Communion is part of what makes me tick and to be denied giving it to people has hurt. The service yesterday was great fun. A hymn which had adapted the words to the Proclaimers “I would walk 1000 miles”; the Hollies “he’s not heavy he’s my brother” used as a prayer, the final hymn which I’ve not sung for years: “When the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there”, and the outgoing Superintendent, Sue, dancing round the church with a toy horse during “We are marching in the light of God” —- she had wanted a conga, but there wasn’t room! The service was a bit crazy but I felt good to be there. I guess this week I’ve accepted, however hard it is, we are where we are, and actually, it feels good to be where we are.

Transition is part of life. To stay where we are is boring. To be open to possibilities ahead of us even if we didn’t want to move is spiritually healthy. We can keep going on about the hurt of the past but we need to believe that we even if we want to move, God has more to show us ahead. I’m beginning, after a struggle to believe that.

On Saturday I return to Hastings for my farewell

as their Superintendent. Part of me is really scared about going back but I need to say thank you and acknowledge I’ve moved on. I’m still deeply sad I’ve had to go. I’ve written this to the folk:

“I’m grateful for this opportunity to send greetings to everyone through the pages of Spotlight. Lis and I are very slowly getting better after a horrendous few months since becoming unwell last August. To not be able to breathe without coughing, or speak in public without going violently hot or walk more than a few minutes without feeling absolutely shattered has been very frightening. To not know what the future holds when you find yourself away from all that is precious is not easy. 

To leave an appointment I loved so much has been very painful. I want to say a huge thank you for the privilege of sharing ministry with you for the last seven years, the last five as your Superintendent. We have made real progress together in spirituality, contextual mission and building relationships. You are a Circuit with rich possibility, plenty of resources and with much to celebrate. I’m sad circumstances meant I couldn’t carry on celebrating with you but I will remember you in my prayers as you build on what I’ve tried to do with you alongside Peggy and Tricia over the last few years. 

I now find myself being without appointment for the next year and a bit to build myself up, stationed to The Fens Circuit around the towns of Wisbech and March. Most of this Circuit is very rural and the churches have very small congregations but they keep the faith and as I get better I hope to help them a bit.

Please remember us in your prayers as we promise to remember you.”

I take comfort tonight with mother’s house about to sell and returning to a Circuit I never wanted to leave and still don’t, in the words of the Psalmist, who knew all about transition:

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

In all the transitions of life, we hold on to what we know...