Oof

… and triple oof. Just finished our May Messy Church on the theme of how special each of us is to God – many sparrows glued (the most lurid you’ve ever seen), many fingerprints printed, biscuit faces iced, balloon men assembled (with much popping and shrieking), prayers prayed, friends made, troubles shared, eyes opened… just another Messy Church.
I say oof because it felt as if it was going to be a disaster: one member of the team rang this morning to say her back was out; another croaked over the phone that she had no voice or energy, and that’s on top of the fact that we knew already of four regular team members who couldn’t come.
But God is very good. Not only did I have that ‘peace that the world cannot give’ against all the odds, but he sent us a new teenager to help, from an arts event at the weekend, who came with a friend – both excellent at getting stuck in and wanting to come back next time. One teenage lad who has started coming regularly to help in a group of friends showed enormous empathetic concern for me, which cheered me up; the visiting friends from a local parish wondering about starting their own MC didn’t just watch but rolled up their sleeves and helped; one new family came with a lovely dad because of a cow (um… it’s a long story) and loved it, and best of all for me, something which spoke of ‘belonging’ – a little anecdote: one mum has been coming since we started but missed last month. At the end of today, she said, ‘It was the sixth birthday last month and we couldn’t be here! And I’ve just seen that sixth birthday banner in church with all the names on! And we’re not on it! And we should be on it!’
Of course, we hoisted down the banner and whipped out the fabric pens and her name joins ours on the banner for posterity. It made me jump up and down inside: it may have been her way of going up to the angel in charge of the Book of Life and demanding that her name should be included…