Curacy!!!

Right, as promised in Thursday's post, here is a post about my Title Post. Also known as my Curacy. Or 'the mad Parish who wanted to take on me as an Apprentice Vicar - the fools!'

It is the Benefice of Holy Trinity, Bridgwater with St Hugh's, Durleigh. More info here...
http://www.achurchnearyou.com/bridgwater-holy-trinity

The conversations started in November when Paul and I realised that moving to the Diocese of Bath and Wells would be a practical, sensible and grown-up thing to do both in terms of being near family and being slightly nearer to Bristol Children's Hospital than we would have been in South Devon (at 10 weeks old Arthur made it clear he was in charge, so this move is all his fault!)

We visited in November and were immediately impressed by the potential Training Incumbant and his ministry.

We visited a service in metaphorical hat-and-dark-glasses, which was actually slightly easier than previous 'covert' visits to potential curacies. When people asked where I lived I just told them where I grew up, which is a mere 8 miles away! So it involved almost no lying at all!

It seems ideal. There's a sense of being outward looking and prioritising the wider community, which is absolutely essential to me. The actual liturgy is just about what I'm used to (what 'A Church Near You' calls 'Low End of Catholic') which is great.

We'll be living in central Bridgwater, outside the Parish but within easy walking distance. It'll feel very different to Cuddesdon. One fellow ordinand said to me last week "the thing about Cuddesdon is you can't even go and buy a pen without using your car." My pen buying opportunities will now be abundant. In fact, I'll have Morrisons, Wilkinson, the Works and WHSmith all within a 10 minute walk of the house, which stock a range of pens of all textures, colours and qualities. Also within the specified radius, a terrifying number of restaurants, cafes and takeaways which may pose a problem.

Anyhow, I just cannot wait. In the spirit of prayerful reverence -  "bring it on!!!"

One Year On

Well, the end of term 'Bright Hour' is done and oh what fun we had. But I'm in rather a contemplative mood as Hilary term Bright Hour marks one year on from that day which must have been the oddest of my life.

If we go by calendar date, the actual anniversary is tomorrow, but I'm not sure I'll have time to write a Blog post tomorrow so I'm doing one now.

Our appointment was 1pm and we went in ten minutes late. Which means it must have been about 1.45pm on the 15th March 2012 when those immortal words "there's just one thing..." were uttered by the sonographer.

In the last year, life has changed a lot.

Mr A and I could now give you a full and thorough definition for all of the following terms: mylomeningocele, hydrocephalus, ventricular-peritoneal shunt, Arnold Chiari, laryngomalacia, vocal chord palsy and many many more.

"Did you drain the baby?" is also a common question in our household and I think nothing of walking into the Doctor's surgery and requesting "a tube of KY jelly, on repeat prescription, for my son who is 7 months old." We also know exactly which car parks at the JR are the least clogged up at which time of day, and have tried most of the products on offer at all of the cafes. We have spent 30 days in Critical Care and lived to tell the tale.

One year ago, I stood outside Bright Hour sobbing, unable to go in and participate in the jollity. Nothing seemed worth it any more.

If only I could have glimpsed today. I got up and went to morning prayer. I came home and Mr A was feeding him Weetabix and mashed banana in his high chair. He smiled through the banana which was both disgusting and charming. We all went to college breakfast, then I went off to preaching class. Then I took Arthur to baby & toddler group. After a delicious lunch of sweet potato and pear (Arthur, not me) I went to prayer group, and came back to find Arthur and Mr A napping on the bed. Arthur and I went to tea at 4. Then we came home and Arthur sat in his Bumbo and watched Pointless, then had his dinner and went to bed. And I went to Bright Hour and only sobbed with laughter.

Life is entirely normal. Catheterisation 5 times a day. More medication than your average baby. But that's really about it.

Here he is tonight getting ready to go to sleep. I wish I could have seen this when I was sobbing outside Bright Hour last year.

I'm able to officially announce my Curacy now, and I'll post about that in a few days. But for now I'd like to take the time to bask in the joy of an entirely normal day.

 

I feel so blessed.