The Present as Future, Future Now

Monday 28th April 2014

I'm trying to be in next Monday as I write on this one, Easter Monday. Next Monday I'll be just back from a four day working retreat called Cursillo, or to give it its full title, Cursillo de Christiandad (sp). - literally a short race through Christianity.  By then, I and another priest and fifteen lay Anglicans will have served a dozen pilgrims with an attempt to demonstrate the sheer loving-kindness of God. We will have worshipped him together in sundry ways, given and heard about fifteen talks about faith in him, and done a lot of laughing and some crying together. We aim to all grow closer to Christ through the weekend, and to have fresh impetus to go on serving him.

So I will be fairly spaced out next Monday.

But at least I'll be getting my feet done. I have an appointment with Stuart, our local NHS Chiropodist, or Podiatrist as they say these days. It's long overdue, as the hard skin on the balls of my feet is painful, but I'm grateful for the care that I'm given as a diabetic.

Then, Canada awaits. Canada in England, that is.  John and Eileen, who are English but live in Canada, come back to Blighty every year and spend two weeks or so in Teesdale, where I live. I think it may be three this year. We meet to eat and drink, share joy, love the Lord together, and John and I meet in TSOSB (The Shrine Of St Bruno) in my back garden for votive offerings.

So that's what I'll be thinking about on Monday 28th. I'll have been busy preparing for Cursillo last/this week, so may not have written any new poems. On the other hand I may have done, as part of preparation. It's a funny thing, the present as future, future now. You never know what hasn't happened, and what has happened isn't quite what will be. Or whatever.  Sometimes this living lark isn't very simple, is it.

Now I'm confused.

So as I was saying

, whatever that was.......

Does God like Caramel as much as I do? I'm writing to him via his PA, Rev Keef, to find out.

Meanwhile,  after decomposing in the winter, I am now composing poems again, composting in the garden,  and generally combobulating.

It's good to be alive! It's good not to be applying for jobs, as my job is not to have one. The Govmint told me so and generously said that I can do without Benefit after twenty seven years as I'm not fit for work. Yes, that's what they said. Because We're All In It Together.

I use the Food Bank of home. I get by. God provides. I was able to buy cigars for the first time in many months.

I feed my mind. It was very wasted. My Kindle app brings me much pleasure, except when I have to read very poor Theology because my pal asks me to.

I have loved reading The Eagle of Spinalonga, Jane Austen, Robert Harris, Brennan Manning, Dan Edwards, George Herbert, John Donne, Pru Phillipson.

Poetry has flowed this, that and the other way out of me.

I am inspired by Keef.  Well, is that really the right word?

I have preached, prayed, celebrated the Holy Mysteries, Glided at Durham Cathedral and Trained for Cursillo.

I shall stop now, because I can tell that Keef is going to Kanonise me.