Emerging church in Curry House shame

City Life Church Luton are pictured wearing Versace. Many thanks to the India Ocean, Sundon Park Luton for their kind assistance during the photo shoot.

It Begins

Very hot day, a few more clouds today. The London Transport Network crumbled, seemingly with my weight, as I trod platforms and escalators, waiting for trains that were never to come. First Capital Connect are nobheads, Gavin proved it recounting a question that had been posed in the House of Commons yesterday asking if the governement's descion to give the Thameslink and WAGN services to a company who's business model was transporting fewer people for bigger profits was really such a good one. All this an aside. We arrived fairly tired, abruptly too - at least it seemed to me. It turns out we would all like some space to be ourselves, no surprise you might think, yet my own admission of such had me pretty confused. We talked about what we will do this week, planned, usually such activities turn out to be quite fun but a meal awaited our conclusion and I for one was very hungry. The Indian Ocean, a restraunt of the Asian persuasian, was the best I've been to in the south of our green and pleasant land. We had decided to feast, and this we did with conversation and a pint or four and a half of Kingfisher, fruit juice for three of the four girls and a pint of cola for Mark who is driving back to Cambridge tonight, carrying on a lifestyle Jed Bartlet would wince at the prospect of. Liz accompanies him having committed to finishing packing her room, that when her Dad arrives at 1.30 tomorrow she will be ready to leave, an exception to the rule apparently. She along with Gavin and Fiona move into their house in Luton tomorrow, Mark, Ruth and I remain unhoused - Laura training for the Nursing corp is provided with student accomodation near the station. Well, it has begun, quite what I don't know. Day one.

Bed now, tired.


Oh before we go, the night was topped by a little artistic expression, eventually pictures of pigs were drawn.

"I eat shit"? Fiona did it.

www.loveluton.org

The day is rapidly approaching where we will be the leadership team of a church, rather than the team that will plant a church. It all feels more real and like God is giving us more authority to be who he is calling us to be. One milestone is getting a proper website url. I know it's probably quite a silly one, but a milestone none the less that reflects the change and disruption that is going on. More here.

How to look like your favourite biblical character

Take one scarf (must have tassles). Wrap around face as demonstrated...

Sinking

It’s all been a bit quiet round here of late - sorry about that. We’ve obviously been working very hard trying to prepare a church plant. Either that or the hot weather has given us all the work-ethic of a Jamaican on a Bacardi advert.

We’ve just been kicked out of the world cup on penalties (not the plant-team, rather the England squad). Have you ever had the feeling of sinking inevitability? I get it when I’ve done something wrong and have to own up, or when something i’ve really hoped for suddenly looks unlikely. I think it is my least favourite feeling.

We had a bit of a disappointment recently when the house we had hoped to rent fell through. It was quite a hard situation as it looked fairly in the bag, and when it did fall though I think we all felt a bit let-down. When I saw the little missed call sign on my phone, I had that sinking feeling. I knew that the house had fallen through and there was nothing I could do about it even before I listened to the message. Sinking inevitability.

The house hunt, with a couple of weeks to go is, to be honest, a little bit imbibed with this emotion. The places we have seen are all quite samey, with little in the way of reception space or office space for me to work from. I’m left with the question of how you forget what could have been? The place we had lined up was perfect in every way - location, space and size. The truth is, whatever house we go for won’t be as good.

It’s fine, obviously. And disappointment heals up over time. If I was feeling profound I would draw parallels with disappointment in my own life, how God fixes us up and the like, but I’m not. I’m still recovering from a sinking-sense-of-inevitability-hangover from England’s earlier performance.