I woke early to a bright warm sunny day, due to wound discomfort and pain, which isn't going away any time soon. It's taken time for the impact of the final surgical repair stage of the process to reveal itself, and I just have to get used to the various workarounds, to remain comfortable. Clare dressed the wound afresh after breakfast, and then we walked to St Luke's where I was scheduled to celebrate the Eucharist with Archbishop Rowan preaching.
The fact that we were both on the rota seems to be have overlooked and some people looked a little puzzled if not put out to have two clergy serving them. I joked about us doing a double act to relieve the hint of awkwardness. After a year of a church regime under covid people are less accustomed to coping with change. Over the past couple of months there have been changes a-plenty. Rowan preached beautifully. I made the most of the opportunity to thank God through offering the Eucharist for bringing me through the past two years and delivering me at last from the scourge of the Seton's suture, even if I am still paying the price for it post-operation.
After a light lunch, Kath arrived looking fit and beautiful, after a year in which she's worked incredibly hard to continue with creative projects in a most remarkable way. We walked down to the Taff, and this left me drained and tired and I had to got to bed before and after supper, like it or not. I need to redefine my limits for while, or else suffer unnecessarily. I did manage later in the evening to prepare for this Thursday's recording of Morning Prayer and a reflection on Corpus Christi. Sometimes ideas come when you're idling.
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