Mountain climbing

It's one of those mornings.

No, not one of those mornings where I wear a hood and grunt at people.

But it's one of those mornings where I'm skipping down the street with a smile on my face and expect bluebirds to join me in song and trees to sway to the beat.

This mood is a perfect continuation of the perfectness of this weekend. I mentioned this in yesterdays blog, but very briefly.

So, I'll start with the Lenten Talks.

So everyone knows about the first three days as everyone was still here. But on Thursday, our number reduced greatly as about 10 members of community went to London. I must admit, I was very unhappy about the situation of, not only about being left behind, but about having to keep going with the animation of the Lenten talks without the people in London. I found it unfair, unorganized, and stupid.

Well, it went well.

Not only that, it went fantastically. I enjoyed every moment of animating, planning, playing, and last but certainly not least, I loved the packing up.

Seriously, I'm not in any way being sarcastic. I loved the coordination between all of us who helped. I loved the efficiency of everyone. And to have everything packed away in the vans, and the chapel back in it's normal state in half an hour, with ten people missing, and with the rain pouring down, was amazing. I thank all who helped.

After every evening, I never went home directly. And every night was fun, great and special in it's own way.

I have to send out a special thanks to Bernice for helping me get through this weekend.

Also, a shout out to all the people still in London at the moment. I seriously hope you had a wonderful time and look forward to you, SLOWLY AND EVENTUALLY, transferring what you got from there to us.

*I looks up at the lecturer. Realize he is still saying the same thing he was saying 52 minutes ago. Shrug and continue with my blog*

So what did I get out of this weekend. Well, besides a reminder to always have faith in God and thrust Him blindly.

You ever look ahead and see a looming, dark, unclimbable mountain in your path? And it gets closer, until you right under it and you're so worried you begin to feel physically ill.

And then, without realizing it, no matter how hard a task it is, it's behind you. You look back and realize you got through it. Obviously you begin to notice the people that actually helped you get over the bigger boulders, but you made it.

So with this positive, message of hope.

And with the lecture about to end, and the sun shining outside and a mug of tea with my name on it at Chaplaincy...

out