Moving On

Last day in Switzerland today.

The sun is still shining, and I am still writing! But I thought I'd include a photo of me actually on skis, just to show that I don't just take photos of views...

The group from St Catherine's are here now, and having fun. It has been great to see Andy and Esther and Steve and Julie and all the Youth Group/Kids as well. Also, Miles is in town with a different group, and I spent yesterday morning skiing with him.

Actually, I spent yesterday skiing everywhere! From 8.30am till 4pm. I just about wore my skis out. It was great fun. And today it has been a solid writing day to make up for it. Lots of progress there - though I need to do a bit more, which is hard, because I have reached a sort of break point, and to start again today would mean beginning a new section which needs to have its own momentum. Hmm.

This photo is Joanna and Al Copley. Al is the pianist at the Falken Hotel, and and it has been my great pleasure to eat with them these last few evenings, and to talk about faith, and to listen to Al's wonderful jazz and boogie woogie piano playing. He is a phenomenon, and their friendship has been a genuine gift aswell. One of the joys of coming here regularly is the renewing of friendships, and this one has been special this year.

But in the morning I leave. A brief trip back to England, and then on to the States.

Two further things to record before I finish for now.

As I walked across at Mannlichen yesterday, basking in the warm afternoon sunshine, glorying in the mountains, rejoicing in the freshness of the snow, I poured out my thanks to God for this whole experience, and I felt the presence of his Spirit gently lift my own. I record this because I will confess that it has been a while. With all my heart I know that his Spirit is always with me, helping, sustaining, guiding, speaking - these things I know and see. But I just haven't felt it for a while. The weight of work, responsibility, the sheer pressure of life and the intensity of a timetable. And yesterday, I felt it. It was simple, brief, wonderful.

Second, I had a remarkable dream the other night. About three years ago, a friendship I valued ended badly. I have many times since reminded myself to forgive that person, and prayed that I might be forgiven. Don't ask. In the dream I was speaking of this to an older, wiser person, but not just of this - we spoke of the many years of friendship that preceded; and towards the end, the older, wiser person spilled his glass of red wine over me. A clumsy act? Or a symbol of forgiveness, the blood that cleanses all. And I was suddenly aware that over many years there was much to forgive. And to be forgiven. In writing about forgiveness, I suddenly saw in this one friendship a microcosm of a whole world of relationships: we think one thing is the problem, and there is so much, it never ends, it all ties together, and we have to constantly work out hearts and lives where forgiveness is everyday speech and thought and life. And I can't make one person forgive me; but I can make sure I have forgiven them, holding nothing back, by forgiving time and time and time again. Till it's all gone. Till it's as natural for me as it can be.

Because then, I think, life looks different with the restraints removed. It's not about the past - it's about the future. And suddenly I think I'm getting a sense of what my sabbatical is about.

PS

And tonight I went back up to Wengen with Andy and Esther and Matt Jones to see Maggie at the Falken, to enjoy Terry's bar one last time, to listen to Al's piano one last time, to remind myself that saying goodbye here is one of life's temporary impermanences. As I said, it's about the future.