Today (well actually yesterday now cos I couldn’t post this at the time) I read this article from the BBC news on the ‘slow death of handwriting’, which was a bit of a shock I have to say. A sad state of affairs when we are no longer used to writing anything by hand, and the terrifying possibility that future generations may learn about us only by the computer data we leave behind, and won’t even be able to interpret these ‘strange symbols’ on a page. Even worse when we realise that this is no exaggeration. That it is true that in many jobs people can go for months if not years writing only the odd note or phone message by hand. That the recent troubles experienced by Royal Mail might partly be put down to people more often using email rather than good old fashioned letters to communicate.

I have friends who refuse to accept what some would call the inevitable demise of the letter, and resolutely keep writing, and in doing so encourage me to do the same (well it would be rude not to reply..). But I also know that when I try and write for a sustained period of time, I find myself getting fed up of how long it takes to form the words, I miss letters out because of trying to get to the end too quickly, and my hand gets tired much sooner than I’m sure it used to in school days.

Maybe we are losing the ability to write. Gradually, without realising it. And maybe we need to do something to prevent this from happening. A challenge for lent then- write a letter to a friend. Even just a card with a message in it. A small token which will brighten their day to see some post that’s not a bill or junk, and which will make you slow down enough to communicate your thoughts the good old fashioned way!

So that last post was inspired by (and has inspired) thoughts for my sermon this weekend. But to go back to the more mundane stuff thats also been going on..

This weekend just gone was the SCM annual conference, always a thought-provoking experience, and this year was no exception. I’ll come back to that sometime. Aside from the ‘official’ bit of the conference, its always good to see people. New friends and old friends, getting together again and chatting in the pub or singing till the small hours, and then realising that two nights of little sleep is not a good way to start a new working week!

The heating problems continue, three visits of the manufacturers engineers down, still no  better. |Apparently after three visits they send out a ‘lead engineer’. Which means what? Is that jargon for ’someone who knows what they’re doing’? In which case why didn’t they send them first?! The mind boggles.

Last night I spent a happy, err, while, organising my posts and adding categories (sermon which needed writing might have had something to do with this sudden urge!). Hoorah for another form of organisational procrastination! I’ve decided tagging will be restricted to newer posts, or I may never post again for spending all my time tagging. Which would somewhat defeat the point.

Job hunting continues, jobs come up and I think will continue to do so, we’ll see where that takes us. Hoping and praying that sometime soon something will change and this half-life will be transformed. Although the idea of that is so mythical and far off that in some ways it doesn’t quite seem real.

And talking of which, I should draw your attention to a new wibber who has appeared this week, who I now can’t refer to simply as Mr RF. Some of you have spotted him already, but if not, wander over and say hello.

Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days and nights. He was tempted by satan, and depending which account you read he was fasting also. He was in this desert, a vast, featureless landscape, with no one and nothing nearby. Utterly alone, abandoned, apparently, by God.

With nothing to distract him, his thoughts come tumbling over each other, unable to keep track or to hold them, he is overwhelmed, his mind circling out of control. Questions with no answers, people too far away, worries he cannot ease, and the time dragging on with no hope of relief. And deep down the knowledge that soon, he still has a job to do.

This is not the wilderness we like to think of during lent. This isn’t an emptiness borne of giving up chocolate, or tea, or swearing. This isn’t the making time to pray a bit, or spend 10 minutes reading the bible each day. This isn’t a wilderness we can create,  which is neat and tidy and restricted to these 40 days. An experience which is slightly uncomfortable, but not too much, bearable because it is quantifiable.

This isn’t an experience which we choose for 6 weeks each year, and lets face it, if we could, we wouldn’t. But that’s not to say we’ve not been into this wilderness. Whether only for an hour or two, or for months or years at a time. Either way, we have been there, and because we have, we can understand.

It is in this place, in the grip of these feelings which we would like to forget, that Jesus spends these next 40 days and nights. He has been there too. We are not alone.

Despite having spent quite a few weekends in London now, we seem to have mostly had ’stuff to do’- before Christmas this mostly involved Christmas shopping. The last two weekends were the first we’ve had there since Christmas, and we’ve made a start on the ‘going places and seeing things’. You see, I don’t really know London, so I wanted to get out to some of those places I’d always heard of but never seen.

Last weekend we had a lovely wander over a snowy Hampstead Heath, with proper wintry weather (he thinks I’m a bit mad to love winter so much!). We walked and talked, stopped to sit down, and walked again when we got cold. And warmed ourselves up with cream tea in a little cafe on the way home. After church on Sunday we had a mad lunch of Dim Sum with a friend of mine, no idea what we ordered but it tasted good!

This Saturday, yes the 14th, we’d decided to make ourselves a scrummy dinner (rather than paying someone else for it), and so Saturday morning was spent happily mooching around looking for random ingredients- the favourite being a wonderful organic hippyish shop with nuts and seeds and all types of tea in big jars Although apparently there are no chives in Camden just now. So now you know.

After the shopping we headed out to Greenwich for the afternoon, to a lovely pub for lunch (with very yummy beers), and then a wander through the park and up to the observatory. With my fix of science geekery we then wandered back down, past the maritime museum, to wend our way home.

The evening was spent in a contented kind of organised chaos as we tried to work out whether the carrots needed soaking before the aubergines had finished being pressed, how to tell if the sesame seeds were toasted sufficiently, and how on earth we would ever use the ’small’ bunch of parsley we had bought! The end results were definately rather yummy, with the aubergine fritters and bread and butter pudding being the highlights.

Our Sunday lunch date cancelled, we headed to have lunch near Trafalgar Square, and had a wander around the national gallery. A pleasant discovery was an exhibition of the impressionist painter Sisley’s time in England and Wales, in which we learned that he was married in Cardiff and spent his honeymoon on the Gower. His paintings of Langland were rather special.

A rather nice valentines weekend in all. And no hint of the stress of booking restaurants, dealing with stroppy waiters, or long queues in sight. Sorry bimble.

I know I said I’d write a holiday blog when I got back, and I know I got back a while ago. For a while I was waiting till I was able to blog about Kenya, and wanting to do that before writing (different) random ramblings, and then I kinda didn’t get round to it. What with coming back to a birthday which got spun out with several celebrations, and then a couple of sermons and probably some other stuff as well, I think I got distracted. Well, the holiday blog will come, I promise. If nothing else, I want to record it for myself, so you’ll get the benefit of my ponderings.

Anyway, for now I just wanted to break the silence, and say I am still here, I did make it back from Africa, and to give voice to some of the things floating around in my head right now.

Today I had an experience I hope I don’t have too often. A colleague of mine has been made redundant, and today was to all intents and purposes his last day. Suffice to say this is not a pleasant experience, mainly for him and his family, which has just grown with the birth two weeks ago of his second child. His parental leave finished yesterday with a meeting confirming he was indeed out on his ear so to speak.

These things are never easy, but in this case the whole thing has been handled incredibly badly in a number of ways,  in my opinion. The overriding feeling after all this is helplessness, mixed with guilt at still having a job to go to (even if not entirely satisfied with it).  Also concern for someone who has become a friend, for what the future will hold, for the turmoil which must be behind the cheery face he has put on.

Tonight, whatever I would like to change about my work, I am grateful that I get to make that decision, and pray that neither you nor I will ever have to go through this.