Water proof

I’ve always been fascinated by water, that marvellous molecule that make life on this planet possible. I’ve seen oceans, lakes, glaciers rivers and streams. I’ve seen rain fall on several continents and what happens when it doesn’t. I’ve drunk it every day of my life, or something made with it. I’ve used it in speech therapy and ministry and ‘Living Wet’ is my motto. However a drip running down the back of your neck on a damp morning’s walk is not the most exhilarating form of water.
Gilsland claims to be the wettest place in the Roman Empire. I’m not arguing. However, it does also win the award for ‘top toilet’.
It must be quite wet because the trail is on a temporary diversion here since a flood demolished a foot bridge. It means a stop for hot chocolate at the village cafe cum shop. I am now in Cumbria.
On the whole the weather dried up for the rest of the day, the wind coming and going. There was plenty of wall left until Hare Hill where I saw the last of it. Strangely it was also the highest remaining section, or so an excited family explained to me before they hurried on east to see some more.
There were puddles here and there and the odd little stream or brook taking its time amongst trees and stones. A few more drops fell from the sky just before the turning to Lanercost where the 12th century Priory was a welcome sight.

Trying to Live Wet,
I give thanks for these marvellous molecules,
Mindful that I do not dissolve before time.
As the rain waters the earth,
Gathers in streams and rivers,
and travels to the oceans,
There to rise once more in the clouds
May I also rise
On the Last Day.

Bridging another Gap

There are lots of gaps along the Wall. Here are some more prayers to fill the gaps.

Prayer in four directions 
I look to the east, from where the sun rises; as the day begins prepare me, body, mind and spirit, for the adventures of today.
I look to the south, as the sun climbs to miday, may my body, mind and spirit be focused on following Christ’s way today.
I look to the north, as the sun passes the zenith and begins to fall, may my body, mind and spirit not fall or fail today.
I look to the west, where the sun sets in a blaze of glory, giving thanks for the day, for the working together of my body, mind and spirit,
Glory to you, God of all directions.

Beside still water
Hush, hush, hush, be still
And know that I am God.
Purple heather, purple fireweed,
Purple thistles , purple knapweed,
Ripening raspberries:
Purple was the Emperor’s colour.
Here, now it is nature’s glory
And homage to the Living God.

Remnant of a pilgrim song
We will walk, we will walk,
Every step that we take,
Every prayer that we make,
We will go on our way with God.

Bridging the Gap

A prayer on a mountain

Glory to you, mountain raiser:
You shaped Creation with your hands
And filled it with your breath.
Glory to you, mountain Walker,
You honoured Humanity with your life,
And breathed the same air.
Glory to you, mountain mover:
You flow through the gaps
A fill us with holiness.
Glory to you Holy Three in One:
For every stone, every step, every breath.

On Hadrian’s Wall,  13.08.2017

The Roman Way

Ant-like walkers
Roman stalkers
History catchers
Shower watchers
Wide-eyed wakers
Early mist breakers

Just imagine, if the Romans hadn’t built this wall nearly two thousand years ago then I’d not be able to do this walk today. Just one of the things the Romans did for us.
Me, I like to look on the Brightside even when it’s raining. Milecastle 34 had a brighter inside, with sheltering trees, and some stinging nettles. It was clearly most often used as a sheep fold these days. Sensible sheep.
There were a number of small woods; one was Sewingshields Wood, which bordered a small farm. This was a very wild place with the rain lashing down, but the wood was gentle, green and welcoming. Most bizarre of all the abandoned privy, door hanging off its hinges next to the path. This not One of those things the Romans did for us.
In Houseteads Wood it was possible to walk on the actual Wall. Mostly you just walk beside it or sometimes in a ditch. But the most noticeable thing about today were the ups and downs of which there were quite a lot. Each one has its own gap at the bottom, the best known of which is Sycamore Gap, for featuring in quite a few films.
There were many more people walking today, thanks largely to a trek for the Alzheimer’s Society. This led to some queues on the downs and ups due to the stone steps being slippery from the rain.
Milecastle came and went. Number 39 gets a particular shout out. By now I’m past half way on the Wall and there’s only tiredness in the legs to stop me, which thankfully came true at Twice Brewed. I was revived by sausage and mash and half of ale, before Bob went back to Yorkshire. Coincidently there were some Romans from Eboracum in the pub who cheerfully agreed to a photo opportunity. Well, they’d not met the Rev before. It was just one more thing the Romans did for us today.

In our coming and our going
The Energy of God

Bog, sweat and cheers

The Wall goes on, and on and on. In the rain there’s fewer walkers. However, there is Bob for company quite a bit of the time today as he moved the car on to keep up with me. There’s the occasional muddy patch but little true bog so far. A damp patch caused by a spring a Brunton Turret didn’t really count as bog as it was visible running water.
Even in wet weather there is plenty of sweat. There are up hill bits and occasional patches of blue sky later on; both possible contributors to sweat.
Today’s route went past St Oswald’s church once again. We stopped for our picnic lunch there. Then it was onto Chesters fort, which we visited once before with friends. This time we just had ice cream. I then did a further mile to Walwick, to even out the distance for today and tomorrow.
Our accommodation tonight is the new YHA The Sill. The walls in the bar area (the place for cheers, particularly after over 11 miles of walking, the longest so far) are decorated with some good poems about the local landscape, including one by Emily Dickinson. The Whinn Sill is the geological feature that Emperor Hadrian chose for the Northern frontier of the Roman empire.

From the sky to the earth
The presence of God

The Path along the Wall

Butterflies
I saw a Wall on the Wall,
A Peacock on the path at my feet
And in the speckly sunlit wood
Two Speckled Woods danced

I met some more wall walkers, coming from the West. This was the best day’s weather they had had each reported to me.
Over breakfast this morning my host told me she worked for a churches heritage project in Northumbria. She told me about a small church dedicated to St Oswald on the route. As we talked it confirmed in my mind the importance of the stories of the Northern Saints and how the gospel came to this part of England. It is just one other pieces in my post menopause spirituality.
About the time I became Chaplain I began to take an annual retreat to Holy Island. The URC have a project there and I stayed several times, once writing a service for a dead school boy on St Cuthbert’s island.
Going on retreat has been important to me for over 30 years. This was just one place I visited. It was there that I first understood that Aidan missionary and pastoral ministry combined and how the monks from Iona had been re-christianising the North, after Paulinus and Ethelburga.
So I decided to seek out further bits of this story and piece them together if I could in a way that might speak to people today, both those of the faith and those of other faiths or none, so they could see what part faith had and might play in the future.
One person in the story of the Northern Saints is Oswald who is remembered near here for the Battle of Heavenfield. Sandra and I stopped there to see St Oswald’s church, mentioned earlier. The current building replaced a much older one, but it is still a relatively simple structure surrounded by a neat grave yard, and a view all the way to Scotland.
Later, with the evening sun still two hours from setting, I did a short local walk, surprising some deer, hinds and fawns, that bounded across the fields ahead of me

As pants the hart
For cooling streams,
when heated in the chase:
So longs my soul
O God for thee
And thy refreshing grace.

Post menopause spirituality

When I was pregnant in 1993 I reflected and wrote a lot about that time, how it changed me and how I celebrated the whole experience. However, as I was walking today, I realised I’d not done that since before my menopause, which I went through a few years ago now. I decided to rectify that today.

I am very aware of the way in which body, mind and spirit co-operate to do this walk along the Hadrian’s Wall path. Of course this is not the first time I’ve realised that but it fits here because it is foundational.
Going through the menopause coincided with me doing the job of Chaplain, and of course I wasn’t the only woman at school doing so during this time. It reminded me, in RB, of the gospel story of the two women, one just entering puberty, one a mature woman who Jesus meets. In fact he’s on his way to me the younger one when he meets the older one. She interrupts the story with her touch. She reaches out to Jesus and he recognising her, reaches out to her. They meet in that moment.
There have been many meetings and many interruptions during these last 7 years and here are some of those things from my post menopause spirituality that contributed to my survival and are part of this walk.
1. the natural world is a wonder and something I enjoy and learn from all of the time. Today I loved the walk through wild flowers, I loved the blackberries and some small plums in the hedges. There were many insects: common darter, speckled wood, peacock, small tortoiseshell, red admiral are some I remember. I keep a mental note of what I see and sometimes record them. I speak to the things as I pass them: a snail at my feet, a Jay flying across my path. I have always done this.
2. technology is helpful as it means I can photograph the things I see in an instant and that helps recall as well as journalling and scrapbooking later. It also means I can look stuff up easily if I don’t recognise it. Making stuff out of small things is essential to my creativity.
3. walking is simple enough but I have a huge sense of achievement even over just two days. Tired but happy is a good description of how it feels. Alone but connected, both to other walkers and those I meet but also to others. Bob and Hannah aren’t here but they have done other walks with which I have been involved and in itself those experiences have got me here. Bob is also on the other end of the phone if problems arise. They do. He tells me of a short cut. I am grateful.
4. prayer happens, it is so much a part of me. Grace texts me from Kenya to ask for prayer for the election process. There is fear and peace is fragile. I turn other things over in prayer as I walk along, things that have happened earlier in the year, concern for friends and family, the world and what happens in it.
5. I stopped going to church regularly a while ago now, in common with many other people I know. But I still visit churches as I go along, when they are not busy. The quiet is valuable. But I have not yet left the church. It extends all around me. I am surprised at every turn. As the woman extends her hand to touch him, he reaches out to touch her. It’s like that.

In our touch and in our encounters
The affirmation of God

South Shields

There are angels in the north,
Arms held wide to welcome
The cross carriers and thorn bearers
Both the first and the last.

I met my first two wall walkers, an American couple, at St Peters Basin, a marina East of Newcastle City Centre. After that there as a small glut of them for a bit, they having left Wallsend a hour or two ago, about the same time I left the city centre.
The river was quiet, only gulls as a background, calling like they do. Here and there a bankside activity, a factory still in operation or a building site for a new development. There were plenty of ripe blackberries on this section of the route.
The rain started just before Wallsend. There a small detour off the track to the bath house that was uncovered more recently. The best thing at Segedunum is the viewing tower which looks out over the whole site and shows how it has changed in two thousand years.
I decided to go onto Arbeia, the Roman fort in South Shields. Taking local advice I took the metro from Wallsend to North Shields. Then a short walk to the passenger ferry across the Tyne. The rain was more persistent but I got to Arbeia, where it is thought a company of Roman Arabs from Iraq were originally station in what was a storage fort for supplies for the rest of the Wall.
As it was rather wet by now I got a taxi down to Sandra’s mum’s house, where I am stopping tonight. A warm welcome awaited me of course. A total walk of 9 miles today: I am pleased with that.

In our coming and our going
The Peace of God

Durham

The Surplus to Requirements Summer Adventure starts today. First stop by train from Huddersfield is Durham. This world famous city and World Heritage Site is a very fascinating place with its narrow historical streets and buildings.
First call in Durham is Bells, fish and chip restaurant, housed in buildings dating from 15th to 17th centuries near the market place. The fish was a crispy fresh and welcome as ever for the memory of my fish selling ancestors. It’s certainly busy and popular with both locals and global visitors.
A little further on in North Bailey, St Chad’s College offers guest rooms in the summer and very nice it is too, if you get the right room key. If you don’t it’s doubly nice as you get the free work out on the stairs as everyone tries to help and eventually discover you have been given the wrong key.
Outside my window I can see the small wooden college chapel. A list in the entrance tells the visitor that of those listed on the WW1 Roll of honour, four were serving as Army Chaplains.
I had heard a lot about Treasures of St Cuthbert and had bought a ticket. It didn’t disappoint. The coffin of St Cuthbert and the things that were found in it are quite remarkable. The Anglo Saxon embroidery was not something I’d heard about before.
Although I’d been to the Cathedral before I didn’t remember it all that well. It truly is an awesome place. I started in the Galillee chapel where there is the tomb of St Bede, and walked through the nave to the place where St Cuthbert’s tomb is behind the altar. A small boy was fascinated by the crucified Jesus of the Pieta that was there. He venerated it by sliding down the shiny outstretched arm.
There were many things that interested me: the cross from The Somme in the Chapel of Remembrance to the Durham Light Infantry, the embroidery at the altars dedicated to St Hilda and St Margaret, the story of the Scots POWs kept in the Cathedral in 1650 after the Battle of Dunbar, amongst others. Although it was busy, there were many quiet places.

In our coming and our going
The Peace of God

Proper Church

I met a grandmother who told me she loved her grandson but she was concerned that he didn’t have faith. I asked her if she’d give me a tenner if I could prove he did. She was surprised and asked what I meant. So I told her various stories of Silcoates Chapel and of the leadership role the young man played there and how he had grown in so many ways in the eight years I’d known him. ‘But he doesn’t come to church with me’ she said. I enquired if there were any other teenagers at the church she attended. ‘None’ she confirmed.
Maybe you know a church like that. Often mono-generational, or at least dominated by the generation passed retirement age, there is a pattern of practice and attitude in such places that says ‘This is proper church: one hour on Sundays, all committees and rotas up to date’. Moreover it disregards those who come on Tuesday morning to ‘Toddlers’ or Friday evening to ‘Scouts’, seeing these of lesser value and even ‘They’re not our Brownies’.
Well I know another pattern and that’s just as ‘proper’. It’s a place where young people have opportunity to find their own voice about faith and how to practice it, where they grow as leaders and theologians. After what may be five to ten years, they leave, as some will do this summer, but for the time they were part of it Silcoates Chapel is rightly church to them, on any day of the week and whatever we are doing.
The multi-generational church of my childhood was dwindling even then, over forty years ago, so the challenge is not a new one. Neither is it a competition: Sunday church and weekday church may be different expressions of the same urge to engage with faith in community. To engage with children and young people and share faith with them in this way is exciting and demanding. There have been some wonderful moments, like the stories I shared with the grandmother. ‘Did I win the tenner?’ I asked her.

In our life and and our believing
The Love of God