Things Look Up

Now I'll admit when I wrote my blog post on Thursday I was feeling pretty anxious. The main reason for this is, I think, that nothing was really happening. The house wasn't selling, I hadn't heard anything from Cuddesdon since sending my acceptance letter. I thought the BAP results would mean a flurry of activity, but everything was carrying on as normal...

Things have really looked up in the last 24 hours.

When I got home from work yesterday I had a sizable envelope waiting for me from Cuddesdon. It contained;

• A letter from the Principal to tell me term begins at 3.30pm on 22nd September and I should report to the common room at that time for tea and cake (how Anglican!)
• A letter from the President of the Common Room to say hello and to point out that even if we arrive before 3.30pm on the 22nd September we are very welcome to involve ourselves in the college community immediately and join in with any activities.
• A very thoughtful A-Z handbook of all the services I might need in the local area (shops, banks, doctors, vets, primary schools, takeaways, theatres...) including a summary of what is to be found in all of the local towns/villages and a list of helpful phone numbers (my favourite bit is where it points out you can phone 999 if you need the police!)
• An information sheet detailing information about the college including its rules and policies (e.g. "no cycling on the croquet lawn.")
• A list of what I will need to bring with me: black cassock and surplice, cassock alb (what is this?), black shoes, Bible, Common Worship.
• A reading list. I had a quick scan to see whether I had read any of it during my degree, sadly not!
• A booklet introducing the college's counselling service.
• Numerous forms as follows: library membership application form, 'training in listening skills' application form, internal directory registration form, placement preference list.

Reading through this literature has made it a lot more real for me; in 16-and-a-half weeks time, on Thursday 22nd September at 3.30pm I will be in the Common Room in Cuddesdon, Oxford eating cake and drinking tea as a student and an ordinand!!!

But the information did not stop there. Upon turning on the computer I found not one, not two, but three emails from Cuddesdon! One from the Principal, Martyn Percy. I had emailed him on Thursday to ask about the potential theological educator funding and what this might mean for study at Cuddesdon. He had passed my email to the Vice-Principal Mark Chapman, who had sent me the links to Oxford's MPhil courses and said that it would be fine to start on one and apply for funding later. I am going to phone him next week and discuss my options. Looks like I'm training for 3 years then!

The third email was from the Bursar who has sent me an accommodation form to fill in. I know colleges have to allocate accommodation at the bare minimum of your needs, so we are expecting a one-bedroom flat. We are hoping for ground floor and on a quiet road for the cats, but other than that we're not too fussy.

So it's forms, forms, forms for the next few days. Good job I like forms!

Oh, and the viewers. Well, that's looking hopeful. Paul and I left the house at about 9.25. I don't like being around when people are viewing, because it makes them feel awkward. We went for a little walk over the fields and, when we got back, the young couple were at the front of the house saying goodbye to Wendy, who does the agents' Saturday viewings and also happens to work with me. Wendy just managed to whisper a "they're very keen" before introducing them. They were an absolutely lovely young couple - by chance, a URC Minister's son and a Reader's daughter. They asked us lots of questions, and told us they were coming back to view with their parents (who are coming down from Somerset especially) on Tuesday. I don't want to get my hopes up too much, but I've a feeling an offer may be on the cards...

Location, Location, Location

Over the last few days I have been praying rather desperately for a resolution to the house sale situation.

The situation can be summarised thus: Our house has been on the market for 9 weeks. We have had 5 viewings and are told by more than one estate agent that the housing market is awful at the moment. We would rather like to move to Cuddesdon in the middle of August. That is in 11 weeks time. Worse case scenario we could move at the beginning of September - 14 weeks time. And house sales take on average 8 weeks to go through. So if we want to be up and gone by the beginning of September we need to find a buyer some time in the next 6 weeks. Added to this, we need an offer of £165,500 to break even after all our fees and debts are paid.

You see why I am anxious?

Am I to leave it all in God's hands, or am I to take affirmative action? I think a bit of both hand in hand, so the prayer has continued and in the meantime I have taken action by this morning asking the estate agents to drop the price from £169,950 to £167,950. Maybe it will encourage a few more people.

Those of you who know me will know I'm not much of a Sarah Beeney sort of character. Neither Paul nor I have ever sold a house before and are feeling our way through it blind. If we were one of these property gurus on TV we would, of course, make a massive profit and swan off to our next lucrative property development opportunity. But this isn't going to happen. We've come to terms with the fact that £165,500 may not be possible, and have a figure in our heads of the minimum we would accept. And there's nothing more we can do but sit and wait for that offer to come in (and perhaps touch up the skirting boards in the meantime...)

I've left the little bit of hopeful news until last... The agents told me this morning that we now have our 6th viewing. A couple want to view our house on Saturday. The thing that encourages me about this couple is that they are already renting in Stoke Canon, and are eager to buy their own place here. For a start, it means they already live within hearing distance of the railway line, so that won't put them off. And if they like the village and are eager to buy here they only have the choice of 4 houses at the moment, 2 of which are considerably more expensive than ours. Could this be an answer to my prayers?

...Of course, the sceptic in me says "well, they only live round the corner from us so it's just as likely that they've walked their dog past our house and want to be a bit nosy..."

We'll see.

http://www.whittonandlaing-search.com/propertydetails.aspx?propid=DWE3381&locx=29370&locy=9800&place=stoke+canon&sale=s&distance=50&propertytype=%25&minbeds=0&maxbeds=100000&minprice=0&maxprice=99999998&order=desc&uo=3&new=%25&everyhours=0&skip=140&isaPostCode=False

Lord, for the Years

Today at St David's we said goodbye to our Curate, Maria. She has been with us for three-and-a-half years, having started in that period in 2008 when Paul was coming along to St David's and I was still involved in the University Chapel. Therefore, she has always been a big part of my church life at St David's.

Over the last three-and-a-half years I have come to admire Maria immensely. She is everything, I believe, an ordained person should be. She has a phenomenal conviction in her views, not all of which are completely orthodox, but I love that about her. When she presides it is clear that this is not just another 'vicar-going-through-the-motions' but someone with a vibrant, living faith who does not take her position as priest for granted. Alongside this she is a real people-person, with a particular knack for working with children and for recognising and encouraging the gifts of everyone. If I am even slightly like her when I am ordained I will have been very well trained indeed!

Another thing that was notable about this morning's service was that my selection was announced. I was humbled by the applause and the number of people - not all of whom I know very well - who came up to congratulate me. And it struck me, perhaps for the first time, that Paul and I will shortly be leaving St David's, and that's a really sad thought. Maria's sermon today was about the 'communion of saints' - the idea that when we come together to worship in church and to take the Eucharist we cease to be individuals and become the body of Christ - together in communion with all Christians across the world and all throughout history. She talked about the site of our building, where Christians have worshipped for 100s of years, and this made me think (among others things) about the transitory nature of churchgoing. St David's feels like home, and yet I have been only coming here for 3 or so years. Maria feels entwined in the life of the church, and yet she has only been Curate for a moment in the church's long history. Some people will attend the same church for all of their lives, they will see the community change and grow, and others will be part of church communities for only short periods of times - to contribute in their own little way and then to move on. I realised this morning that, like Maria, in the Vocation I am following I will always fall into this latter category.

In other news, I met with Becky on Thursday and was given my copy of the BAP report. Becky told me it is an unusually positive report, which was nice. They said my presentation was "disappointing" but other than that it was all OK. The surprise of the morning was that they have recommended me as a 'Potential Theological Educator' which means I am able to apply for extra funding so I can stay on at college for an extra year and do a higher qualification, an MPhil rather than an MA perhaps. I'm surprised and delighted about this, although I'm not sure how I feel about training for 3 years rather than the 2 I was expecting. Of all the things I am looking forward to about the future, getting another academic qualification does figure on my list, but not particularly highly. I'll give it some thought.

And the house - well, still not sold, but Paul did spot a couple today who pulled up in our road, got out of their car and stood gazing at it for a bit before pulling away. And we had a viewing last week and another on Wednesday. So, fingers crossed. I mean, hands together, prayerfully!

Journeys End, Journeys Begin

My guess is that most of you who will be reading this will have followed the link from Facebook and therefore you will have seen that yes, thank God, the panel have recommended me!

It's been a very difficult few days. Becky, my DDO, told me to expect the decision by post on (possibly) Saturday, (probably) Monday or (if not) Tuesday. While I tried to aim for Tuesday, I was quite naturally hoping it would come on Saturday, and it didn't. On Monday I dropped Paul off at work and then nipped home to catch the post to find only a Tesco clubcard statement (£7.50 in vouchers, brill) and a double glazing flier.

When it comes to people I know I am a patient person. When it comes to waiting for post I know that I am not. I remember being beside myself when I was waiting for my degree results and the only possible result I could get was a 1st or a 2:1... and there is absolutely nothing you can do with a 1st in Theology you can't do with a 2:1! The result of a Bishops Advisory Panel is quite a lot bigger than that. It is a recommendation for a lifelong vocation, a vocation you don't really retire from, so this decision could in fact affect what I am doing when I am in my 90s!

... No wonder neither Paul nor I have been able to sleep properly for days!

I was planning to pop back home after dropping Paul off this morning, as the post normally arrives around 9am. But at 8.20am as I put the last of the breakfast stuff in the dishwasher, Paul yelled "she's in our road!" A running commentary followed - "she's coming down our path..." And then the letters came through the door. Paul entered the kitchen with a thick, brown, A5 envelope. (As with all important letters, the thicker and browner the better!) I couldn't open it (I mean emotionally couldn't open it, not physically!) so Paul did it and read it out. He got about as far as "I am delighted..."

I have had such an emotional day. The phone calls, emails, text and Facebook messages have been so lovely. I feel fortunate to have such wonderful and supportive friends, family and colleagues and I know this will be important for what lies ahead.

So - the next few days. I am posting a letter off to Cuddesdon tonight to accept their offer of a place. And there's a medical and finance form to fill in for the Ministry division. I am meeting with Becky on Thursday morning to read the assessors' report on me (should be interesting!) and talk through next steps. Then it's the house sale to focus on.

It's an odd feeling. When I have had good news in the past - job interview success or good exam results - I have felt somehow triumphant, air-punching, proud of myself. There is something about how I feel tonight that runs much deeper than that. While I am extremely happy and excited, somehow 'relief' is the most accurate word I can find. All this time I have had this overwhelming feeling that God is calling me to ordained ministry, and to be allowed to pursue that is such a privilege.

The next few days and weeks will be very interesting indeed. I'll keep you posted!

So... What if you don't get in?

...Is a question that no one has yet asked me.

I've had lots of "I have no doubt you'll be absolutely fine"s, which is lovely, but that creates rather a lot of expectation, so my mind has turned to this question - what if I don't get it?

After the panel, on the train back home, I decided two things. 1) I was absolutely 100% myself at the panel, 2) The assessors presented themselves as wise, prayerful people who asked insightful questions and would no doubt be excellent decision makers. Hence, logical conclusion 3) the decision I get will be the right one.

I stand by that, but the last few days of anxious waiting have shown me that if I get a 'not recommended' I will be very, very disappointed. Throughout this process I have had a strong feeling of God's call, which has been backed up by the encouraging things people have said (both after I had begun 'officially' exploring ordained ministry, and even before I had actually started thinking about it for myself.) So I'll be sad. Sad that I will not be able to do the things that I believe ordained ministry will enable, and sad that I have managed to get my sense of call so monumentally wrong.

But this won't mean I'm not called.... to something. Primarily we are called to be human beings and then, I believe, to recognise ourselves as children of God. So a new time of discernment begins - clearly I'm called to lay ministry of some kind, but in what form? And then there's the whole question of career. I'll almost certainly stay in my current job for the next year or so, but what then? I hope I'll come to see this new era as an exciting one, whatever the decision is.

But for the next few days it's waiting. More distracting myself with books and TV and the Internet, and oh there's the St Michael's lecture tomorrow, Soup Evening on Thursday, 'St David's has Talent' on Saturday, Junior Church Sunday morning and visiting Emily and Tabitha with Emma on Sunday afternoon. It seems an age, but it will come, and I aim to make the most of the things I'm doing over the next few days before the decision, whatever it is, changes everything...

The Bishops Advisory Panel...

Well, I got home from the BAP last night and have only just about come to my senses (quite how I managed to work for 4-and-a-half hours this morning I do not know...) It was intense, bizarre, surreal, enjoyable, enlightening, hilarious... I could go on.

So here's what has happened to me over the last few days;

Tuesday

10:55: BAP time has arrived! I leap on a train at St David's Station and talk to the Nice Old Lady sitting next to me as we wend our way through the rolling countryside.
13:30: Now englightened about city gardening, and the Old Lady englightened about what a BAP is, I leap off the train at Birmingham and eat an overpriced sandwich.
14:32: I leap on another train.
15:46: I leap off the train at Sheffield, my legs tired from the leaping. I procure a taxi.
16.15: I arrive at Whirlow Grange conference centre and am led to my room. I am given a card which arrived in the post this morning from my DDO, which is very thoughtful indeed.
16.30: I tentatively emerge from my room and find the other candidates. I join them in making awkward conversation "what's your name?", "where are you from?" and "oh, does that take long by train?" are my favourite questions.
17:00: The BAP begins with a 'getting to know you' session in which I get to know the others in my group a bit better and they get to know me. There are two groups of 8 of us with 3 Assessors overseeing each group.
18:00: We are led into what appears to be an exam room in which we complete the 'Personal Inventory' (30 impossible questions in 40 minutes...) They want our first reactions so we have to write fast!
19:00: Dinner time. Melon, pork and pavlova.
20:00: After dinner the pastoral letter is handed out. It is a letter from a fictional couple called David and Gill who are having a spot of bother with their daughter. I have the rest of the panel to write a reply, and I think I will need it!
21:00: We all go up to the chapel for evening prayer, and I feel quite peaceful for the first time today.
21:30: I drink wine with the other candidates and suddenly everything feels more relaxed...


Wednesday

06:15: I wake up in a cold sweat having had a terrible dream that someone else has done the same presentation as me. After I've got dressed I go outside and pace around the pretty garden for a bit practising my presentation.
07:30: Eucharist. I feel somehow grounded.
08.00: Breakfast. Continental and cooked options. (I go for continental.)
08.45: The presentations. The chairs are in a semi circle and there is a playing card face down on each chair. I think I will be ok as long as I don't have to go last... and then turn over the playing card with a number '8' on it. I try to find a way of seeing this positively. The presentations are fantastic, as diverse as the bunch of people presenting them. Topics range from Prayer to the Christian Bikers, from Street Pastors to whether we should change the date of Easter. Finally, my presentation comes around and it seems to go well. People seem interested and it generates some discussion. I think I chair it ok, and manage to find something to say in my 2 minute summing up at the end of the discussion. I heave a sigh of relief!
13:00: Lunch buffet, followed by cheesecake. I am starting to feel fat.
14:00: My first interview. The interviews are split into three categories: Vocational, Pastoral and Educational, with a different assesor for each. I have been told that Vocational is the most important one, and this is my first one, so I feel rather tense as I go in. The interviewer is fantastic: she puts me at my ease and asks well-thought-out questions. I go out buzzing.
15:00: I go for a walk and admire the sights and sounds of Whirlow.
17:00: My second interview. Pastoral. After my earlier one I am not worried at all, but this one doesn't go quite so well. I find it hard to know what he is asking of me.
18:00: I sit and chat with the other candidates, all of whom have had at least one interview. Even though we have known each other for barely more than 24 hours we are starting to click really well. We are varied in age, location, personality, churchmanship and pretty much every other category you can think of, but I am inspired by the fact we all want to be ordained.
19:00: Dinner. Prawn Cocktail, Chicken, Lemon Roulade. I vow to eat salads all next week.
20:00: More chatting.
20:30: I go for a short 'interview' with the Panel Secretary. She's not actually involved in selecting us, but wants to meet with us all separately to check that we have a training plan. I explain to her why I would like to study at Cuddesdon.
21:00: Evening prayer, and this time it's BCP.
21:30: We play a Champions League game of UNO, which just about finishes everyone off!


Thursday

06.45: I wake up feeling much more refreshed and am eager to make the most of my last day here.
07:30: Eucharist, in the chapel again. On the way up I note with surprise we have now become a polling station.
08.00: Breakfast. I opt for continental over cooked again (go me!)
08.30: After breakfast I trot back to my room, determined to work on David and Gill. It's a much harder pastoral letter than any of the examples I was given in preparation for this (I'm not sure I'm allowed to explain why, they re-use them and we're supposed to keep them a secret!) It's also strange handwriting a letter, which I haven't done for years. Many of my fellow candidates have brought laptops, and I wonder if I ought to have done so too. I finish draft 2 before switching to swotting for my final interview.
11:00: My Education interview. The lady seems jolly and laughs at my jokes, but is very on-the-ball with her questioning. I feel it goes well and thank God she didn't ask me about theories of the atonement!
11:45: I should be working on draft 3 of David and Gill but I'm back nattering with the other candidates. They are all so lovely and so interesting, I start to really hope they all get through.
13:00: Buffet lunch followed by lemon tart.
13:30: Right! David and Gill here I come! I reread draft 2 and make some changes, then write my final letter in my neatest handwriting. You can't have all the answers when the problem is so messy, but I am pleased with what I have written. I pack my bags.
15:00: We hand in our pastoral letters and are given a final briefing in which the Panel Secretary describes what will happen next. The Assessors will write reports on us all overnight, and tomorrow morning they will decide which of us will be recommended, and which will not. The reports will go to London for typing which will take about 5 working days and will then be posted to our Bishops, who write to us and let us know. The DDO has told me that Monday 16th or Tuesday 17th are the most likely dates the letter will drop on my doormat.
15:15: Closing worship. The Leader reads the poem 'Kneeling' by R. S. Thomas which I have copied below. I am rather moved.
15:45: The taxi arrives and we head off to Sheffield Station. Four of us have a coffee and reflect on the panel, and, given that I started thinking about this more than a year ago, it feels weird it is all over.
16:57: I leap on the train. Luckily, one of the other candidates is catching the same train to Torquay, so we chat all the way home.

I told Mr A all this last night over an Indian. When I had finished he asked, "so, do you have a gut feeling about what the result will be?" Honestly - no. I feel I was 'myself' there, and I am confident that the Assessors are very wise, so whatever the result I know it will be the right one. And the wait begins...

Kneeling (R. S. Thomas)

Moments of great calm

Kneeling before an altar

Of wood in a stone church

In summer, waiting for the God  

To speak; the air a staircase  

For silence; the sun’s light  

Ringing me, as though I acted  

A great rôle. And the audiences  

Still; all that close throng

Of spirits waiting, as I,

For the message.

Prompt me, God;

But not yet. When I speak,  

Though it be you who speak  

Through me, something is lost.  

The meaning is in the waiting.